Resident Evil: Bloodlust
by Guardian of Ice
Summary: Lara Danielson, an Umbrella lab tech, is trapped in an underground facility with hordes of zombies, creatures, and one very dangerous man turned monster. Only one thing could make it worse: it wants her as its mate... Chapter 36 now up!
1. Prologue

**Resident Evil: Bloodlust.**  
**Disclaimer:** _Most of the ideas aren't mine, but the characters are. Well.. most of them. :D_  
Note: The prologue should be read as if from a computer screen, and the voice entry parts as if you're listening to them.. Please, bear with me. I get silly ideas in my head and have to put them down.

[X-Virus : With the T and G virus, subjects begin transformation within hours, sometimes days. A new type of virus, the X-Virus, changes subjects in just under an hour. Mutation can differ when the virus is injected directly into living tissue, and can depend upon the species and gender of the host. With most virus spills and infections, the subjects simply meander about, so described as "zombies" by anyone who may have seen them. With some of the experiments, however, there is indeed some sign of intelligence and perhaps a hint of remaining human emotion. But not much. More so with the X-Virus than with the other two developed types, these human traits seem to be an annoyance to Umbrella staff.

**_Prologue_**

Accessing File on: T-031 **[Subject Codename: T**  
Subject began as fully human specimen.  
Once injected with prototype of X-Virus, mutation began within an hour.  
Description as follows:  
- Scythe-like claws protruding from fingertips

- Increase in height [6'2"-7'3"

- Yellowing of the whites of the eyes

- Change in irises to pure black

- Peeling and loss of skin, muscle tissue fully exposed

- Elongation of tongue and canines

- Muscle growth

- No other reported changes -

Subject Status: Stable

**Observation Time: 11:35 PM, December 18th, 1999**

In-Depth Report: Subject, so named Thomas DeSalvo, doesn't respond to the leaving of fresh meat in holding cell. Will often maul or pick at, but rarely eat. Has been very docile as of late. Hopefully this doesn't lead to an outburst, as shown with previous subjects. So far, Subject seems healthy. Although I have the odd suspicion that Subject T is "fond" of me, I believe he poses no immediate threat to any of the others or myself.

**Date: December 23rd, 1999. Time: 1:19 AM.**

File On: T-031

Taken by: Lara Danielson

I.D. No. 23685CX

Voice Notes: "Sudden change in behavior, recorded at 12:57 AM. Subject began moaning and beating on the walls, nearly breaking into the recording room where I now sit. An odd cry was emitted, something that sounded eerily like 'mate'. I ran to look in the window of the cell, and Subject T's fit ceased. He turned and stared at me, then reached out with a claw and...stroked the window.. Very odd behavior, considering that he has done almost nothing but sit in the corner and stare at the cameras. Subject T continues to display human emotion, including the need for a 'mate.'"

**Date: December 27th, 1999. Time: 12:03 AM.**

File on: T-031

Taken By: Lara Danielson

I.D. No. 23685CX

**Voice Notes:** "Over the past few days, I have heard several reports from other watchmen and women. Apparently while I have been on holiday, there have been several more outbursts by the T-031 specimen. He still calls for a 'mate', however. It baffles me that he could still show signs of humanity, as he has had three more infusions of the X-Virus in the past three days. When I arrived for my shift this evening at nine, Subject T was in another frenzied state. A pair of guards were trying to subdue him, and to my utter horror, he...just... ripped them to pieces..right before my eyes. What added a great deal to my already prominent confusion was that when he had finished, he began to wail as if mourning... Perhaps my imagination is a little too active, but that's exactly how it sounded. I made my way once again to the window, where I could see better, and once again the fit ceased. Subject T sniffed at the air, as a dog or cat would, and very slowly turned to look at me. A sort of... I don't know... LONGING was there in his eyes, I don't know why, but I swear that's what it was. Maybe I just need to work day shift.. (Slight laugh) But I just stood there, frozen, at least until he moved towards me, and I backed down a bit. A sort of grin spread over his face... Crazy, huh? .. And he SPOKE to me.. he said, very matter-of-factly, 'Mate.' I hope he's just feeling the aftereffects of the-"  
"CRASH!"  
(Distant sounding Male Voice) "Oh, GOD! Subject T has esc- GAH!"  
(Lara's voice again) "Oh...oh my God... Subject T has escaped! Oh, shi-"  
Voice Entry Terminated.


	2. The Beginning

**Chapter One: The Beginning**

**Note: **Thanks to the reviewers! I was really shocked to see so many so fast. Please keep them coming. By the way, you can read normally now.

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_Deep Within An Isolated Umbrella Laboratory.  
Hell has broken loose..._

"Oh..Oh my God! Subject T has escaped! Oh, shi-"

The burst of gunfire, along with the spark and explosion of the computer console cut short Lara's words. The amber haired woman's head snapped to the side, just in time for her to take in the gruesome sight that had begun to play out below.

The north wall of the holding cell had been completely decimated, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust and a slab or two of the cement that had been between two thick sheets of steel. Subject T stood mighty, eyes blazing with an undeniable bloodlust. Grinning wickedly, he squeezed the head of the man he held in one bulky hand, harder and harder. Screaming for mercy, the man began to flail and fire his pistol wildly, bullets ricocheting off walls and machinery.

Soon, though, his screams were cut short, the pressure on his head so intense that he fell unconscious. Subject T either didn't notice or didn't care, and to Lara's horror, he continued to squeeze until the man's head crushed between his fingers and claws like a piece of rotting fruit. Blood sprayed and dripped to the floor, chunks of tissue dropping heavily every few moments.

Lara gagged, blue eyes wide in terror and disgust. Trying hard to force the bile back down her throat, she looked to the left, to the door that adjoined the two consoles that overlooked the holding cell. In a flash, she realized that the man that lay dead outside the cell must have been her friend and co-worker, David Greene. Eyes wide in a new sorrow, she remember that David kept a spare gun in his desk. Fighting back tears of pure panic, she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her semi-dirty labcoat, breath coming in short gasps as she dug around for the key. A voice from overhead startled her, and she looked up towards the speaker, the harsh and metallicy voice ringing in her ears:

"All staff must evacuate immediately. There is an X-Virus leak in sector two. All staff must evacuate. Doors will seal in five minutes."

A shallow cry of disbelief escaped Lara's throat, her already wide eyes becoming more so, nearly bulging now. That announcement could mean only one thing: Subject T had gotten to the second floor storage room. Stopping her frantic search for the key, she let her mouth fall open as something clicked in her mind.

"Ohgodohgodohgodohgod... The virus is LOOSE down here.."

Another wave of panic spread over her in a barrage of pins and needles, and a cold chill ran down her spine.

" Okay, fuck this.." She breathed, turning and striding to the main door, the entrance to her own console, and just as she reached out for the handle, the door behind her clicked and swung open. The girl who had opened it looked around quickly and shakily, muttering incoherently about the "monster." She made her way up behind Lara, who was distracted by the act of putting her key (which she had finally found) back into her pocket. The girl growled softly, and as Lara whirled to face her, she was greeted by the girl's hands on her chest.

Gasping in shock as she was shoved roughly backwards, Lara pinwheeled her arms for something to grab onto, struggling to keep her balance. Meanwhile, the girl brushed past, running for the elevator with her long blonde hair flying out behind her. The console doors slammed shut, both of them, and that last jolt knocked Lara off her feet. Her head slammed against a sharp corner of one of the ugly grey counters in the little room, and bright bursts of color flashed before her eyes. Moaning softly in the pain that coursed through her, she made one last desperate grab for the door handle, but missed and fell to the floor face first. She writhed on the ground for a few more moments, until the blossoming red that filled her vision faded to black and unconsciousness washed over her.

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Well, well.. THAT has to suck... See the button down there? It's for reviewing.. Please PLEASE use it...


	3. Blood, Blood, Everywhere

**Chapter Two: Blood, Blood, Everywhere**

Note: I need more reviews.. I feel so alone out here.. But, to all those who are still with me.. Thankies! I know the chapters are a bit short, but please please please bear with me. I'll try to lengthen them as I go. [ Oh, and I STILL don't own RE. ¬¬;

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"N-no! Please don't ki-GAACK!"

Along with the pleas of the desperate man, a loud crack and the ripping sound of muscle and tendon resonated through the corridor where Subject T stood. In one clawed hand he clutched the legs and lower body of a scientist; in the other, the upper body. The only odd thing about this little situation was that the two halves were not attached. Blood pooled on the floor, small chunks of intestine and bone dropping heavily into it, looking like some cannibal's wet dream. Subject T growled hungrily and bent forward, his eely and grotesquely long tongue dropping from his mouth and stretching itself to the floor, dragging through the sticky mess.

When he had become satisfied, he pulled his tongue back into his mouth, and simply dropped the convulsing corpse into the still growing puddle of crimson. Licking his lips, still hungry, Subject T lifted his head, craning his neck from left to right in order to locate another victim. His nostrils flared a bit, picking up an oddly familiar scent..

Those bloodshot eyes widened in a humanesque fashion as he threw his head back, a loud and agonizingly high pitched screech erupting from his throat. This was the same putrid stench that had filled his nostrils when they did THIS to him.. Growling lowly, he clenched his jaw, not caring about the fact that both rows of sharp teeth were digging into what was left of his scarred lower lip. His nostrils flared again, and he blinked, another, even more familiar scent permeating through the whole laboratory. This smell he could easily identify: this was the scent of fresh death...

He slid that dripping, bloodstained, and veiny tongue over his chin, cleaning off the rest of his meal as he began a slow, heavy walk down the long corridor. From the darkened end of that hallway, a faint shuffling could be heard, accompanied by a monotonous and dry groan. Stopping a few feet from that shadowed area, Subject T tilted his head in a beagle-esque manner, a low growl rumbling in his throat. When his growl of warning was replied to by a louder, even closer moan, he swung one broad arm at the shadows, and was rewarded by an abrupt splatter of blood across the off-white wall.

A woman stumbled into the light, her once bright blue-green eyes now coated by a thin white film. Her skin was a deathly pale, and her left cheek lay against her left shoulder as if she could not muster the strength to lift it. Her shoulder length blonde hair was stained with still drying blood, and it matted to her skin and clothing, glinting a bit under the light. The front of her formerly white blouse was sliced open, along with the torso beneath, blood dripping and running over her stomach and legs. Yet she seemed oblivious to this injury, stumbling forward drunkenly with arms outstretched; groping fingers hooked like claws.

Confused, Subject T stepped back, growling, flexing his claws at his sides as the woman uttered a dry, hungry hiss, baring her yellowed teeth. She lunged for him, teeth gnashing and drool streaming from her cracked lips in thick, bloody bands. Jumping backwards just in time to watch the woman land flat on her face, Subject T growled menacingly, baring his own set of wickedly curved teeth. Moaning in frustration, the woman managed to push herself to her feet, still dribbling blood all over the place. Shuffling to attack him again, she groaned desperately, her mouth opening wide. Becoming quite irritated with this loud female that reeked of death, Subject T again swiped a set of wickedly curved claws at the woman, cutting off her hungry groan when they sliced right through her throat. Another brilliant spray of blood made dark patterns upon the wall and floor, and the woman's body stopped dead.

Trembled for a moment.

Then the head just fell backwards onto the cold cement floor, followed by a faint gurgling sound and a gush of blood. The body stood erect for a moment or two, then gave in to gravity and toppled backwards with a dull thud onto the head and a light splash into the ever growing pool of crimson.

Staring down at the foul smelling corpse, Subject T hissed, baring his teeth once more. This was FAR from a decent meal.. Why, it was already rotting! He lifted one clawed foot and brought it down hard on the chest of the headless body, listening intently as the bones snapped and sliced through still warm organs. Blood dribbled out of the neck; the entire hallway now nearly drenched in the sticky maroon liquid. Grinding his foot in a few times to hear the squishing and gnashing, he growled in satisfaction, then lifted his foot, shaking some of the blood off.

Stepping over the gurgling remains, Subject T turned a corner, sniffing at the air a few times more. He blinked, then growled throatily, narrowing those pupilless black eyes. He was very confused, and being confused made him angry.

Very angry.

Where had the smell of fresh meat gone?! It had been here not an hour ago, but now it was no longer, replaced by a rapidly intensifying stench. This bloodcurdling odor of rotting flesh, combined with the scent of blood made whatever part of him that was even slightly human shiver in disgust, and he gnashed his teeth, foaming at the corners of his mouth. Her threw back his head and screeched, an agonized wail that could burst one's eardrums, swiping furiously at nothingness with his claws.

In the background of his cry, a faint moan became audible, and Subject T stopped short, his eyes wide with rage. He most certainly did not want to have to deal with any more of those foul smelling things...

Suddenly, an image filled his mind: that slender, well shaped figure. The amber haired, blue eyed female. His mate. The one he wanted. she had been here; might still be here. All other thoughts and worries were lost as he sniffed frantically, craning his neck this way and that in order to find her scent. After a few moments, his eyes grew wide, almost glowing with the eagerness and earnest of a child on Christmas Eve. He had found it.

A crooked grin spread across his skinless face, exposed muscle tissue glistening wetly under the fluorescent light. Turning in the opposite direction, her let those glossy eyes land upon a staircase. He lumbered towards it, licking his lips in anticipation, claws digging into the cement with each heavy step. Stopping at the foot of the stairs, he sniffed again, and let another wicked-looking grin break over his ghastly features. He would have his mate very soon...

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Oooh... Scary. But is Lara infected? Is she dead? Will Subject T roam free?! O.o!  
:: Holds notebook that chapter three is written in above candle. :: I need reviews.. o.o;  
Or else.


	4. The Awakening

**Chapter Three: The Awakening**

**Note:** Thank you SO much for all the good reviews! I thought it was all just a crazy story idea. Sorry for the long update. Guess I'd better explain.  
I've been having some trouble with my depression lately, and that gets in the way of my schoolwork and it gets to be one big ole mess. But, you don't wanna hear about THAT. So, updates may take a few days to a week. But don't fret, I WILL finish this story!

Note - A lot of her thoughts are hurried and come as one big word. And... I don't know a whole lot about guns. So.. Don't hurt me?

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"N..Nn..Shit.."

Slowly blinking a few times to regain her focus, Lara groaned, one side of her head throbbing with white-hot pain every time she moved. Her eyelids fluttered closed again and she took a deep breath, struggling to remember exactly what had happened, and at the same time trying to be sure she wasn't really dead. After a few moments, she slowly moved her hands, which were numb from being pinned beneath her all this time, and simply let them rest beside her on the cool cement floor as they slowly regained feeling.

-I'm alive-

She winced a bit, and pressed her palms against the stone, pushing upward so she could get to her knees, gritting her teeth. With a soft groan of exasperation, Lara rocked back on her heels and let herself plop on her butt. Hardly a moment had passed when her mind took the opportunity to remind her of what had happened before she had hit her head.

-David's dead-

Her eyes began to glaze as images of the previous hour or so before she blacked out began to flirt with her mind, her hands folding in her lap and trembling slightly.

-Oh, God... -

-Subject T escaped-

-David's dead-

-Virus is loose-

As each thought beat on her mind like hailstones, tears began to form in those deep blue eyes. But then something made her jolt, a tremor coursing through her whole body as if she had been touched by a live wire, a tear running quickly down her cheek.

- Shouldn't I be infected...? -

She whipped her head from side to side, looking for a ventilation shaft, or a heating duct, or something.

Nothing.

She looked to the doors, to the bottoms, where there would be gaps.

Nothing.

A thin, almost insane-looking smile smile slowly spread over her face, and she began to shake once more, tears of both relief and horror streaming down her paled face and soaking the front of her lab coat and the shirt beneath it. Lifting her hands to her cheeks, she shakily brushed away her tears. This was no time to panic. Right now, she needed to find a safe way out of here.

Lifting her red-rimmed eyes to the row of monitors that showed most of the activity of the second floor, she felt her heart sink into the pit of her stomach as she saw on each one people stumbling about drunkenly, including a familiar looking man close enough to a camera that she could see his ID tag. It read Alex, or something like that. The man was bent over what appeared to be a corpse that had been ripped in half, his face buried in the pool of drying blood...

"He must be infected. Dammit."

-But..I'M NOT infected... -

She was once again consumed by a wave of relief, her eyes closing as she leaned back against the desk, by now having easily forgotten the fading pain in her head. Taking a series of deep breaths to calm herself so she could think clearly, she finally got it in her head to inspect her injury, lifting her fingers to and lightly running them over the blood-crusted and throbbing lump on the back of her head. Hissing sharply at the sting, she fumbled for the handle of one drawer -where she kept a first aid kit- and pulled it open slowly.

With a grunt, she managed to hoist herself to her feet. She sighed and pulled the metal case out of the drawer, setting it on the counter. Unlatching it, she slid it open and searched it first with her eyes for some kind of painkiller. She found it in the form of a bottle containing a few dozen capsules of aspirin, each one marked with a tiny, intricate Umbrella Corporation logo. Swallowing a few times to try and wet her dry and scratchy throat, she frowned at the unpleasant taste lingering in her mouth. She turned a pair of capsules over and over between her fingers, and stood silently.

Wondering how all this could have happened.

Trying her damndest not to shake when she thought about how Subject T was still lurking around down here.

She stared down intently at the two pills in her hand, then glanced to the bottle that lay on its side a few inches away, knowing all too well that the thoughts invading her mind were irrational and unrealistic. She sighed again, her shoulders slumping. But the thoughts would not go away.

-These idiots didn't know what they were fucking with, and now it's LOOSE and you're stuck with their baby..-

Images of the creature that was Subject T catching her and ripping her apart teased at her mind, making her shudder in disgust with herself. There were, of course, two ways she knew of to get out of this whole dilemma. One would be virtually impossible, the other, lying right in front of her in the form of a little brown bottle...

One possibility would be to try and get past all the remaining and most likely infected employees; to get the bloody hell out of here before Subject T could find her. Or, there was the easy way. She could, say, ingest a few too many pills, O.D., and just die. To any uninformed person, this second idea would seem completely crazy.

But, remembering what had happened with a past spill, the T-Virus spill in Raccoon, she knew that going out that door and into that deathtrap couldn't be much better. Her mind flashed back to the file photos she'd seen of the victims of those infected by the virus, chunks of flesh missing from various places on their bodies. In some cases, limbs were even ripped clean off, found some odd feet from the body with bite marks as well as missing flesh.

She knew one thing for sure, though: she wasn't going out like that.

Shaking her head slowly, she popped the two pills into her mouth and swallowed hard, closing her eyes tight as she tried hard not to choke.

The sudden screech of tearing steel and the roar of some unseen being made Lara scream, and she jumped away from where she had been standing, staring at the main door in shock. Sticking through the four inches of solid steel were what appeared to be four wickedly sharp, bloodstained claws. As quickly as they had been stabbed into the thick steel, they were tugged back out, Lara screaming uncontrollably the entire time. She took a step back, and, having misjudged the distance, fell flat on her ass, biting her tongue and cutting her scream short.

Once again, those claws were jammed into the door, this time at more of an angle, and with one powerful yank from the opposite side, the door flew out of sight. a loud clatter of steel against cement signaled its landing, and Lara stared wide-eyed at the door, trying to push herself to her feet. By the time one large and clawed foot was in the room, though, Lara was on her feet, frantically trying to unlock the door to David's office, her eyes wide in panic and terror. Her hands trembled violently, her knees threatening to give way as she tried to jam the key into the lock.

The next thing she felt was a surge of hot, sticky, and undoubtedly putrid breath down the back of her neck. She shivered, the tiny hairs upon her flesh standing out, her body rigid as she slowly turned her head and looked up. Staring straight down into her eyes were a pair of pupilless black orbs that glinted slightly in the light that shone down upon them. Upon that misshapen face was a toothy grin of what appeared to be triumph, that face moving in just a bit more, so it was merely inches from her own. Her eyes slowly moved down his skinless and veiny form, the gruesome sight causing her to shake all the harder. Sliding his tongue over his lips, Subject T grinned wider, tilting his head just a bit.

Slowly turning the door handle so he wouldn't see or hear, Lara returned her eyes to those obsidian pools, her head slowly moving to one side, followed by her body in a slow single step. Subject T blinked, and cocked his head further, preparing to reach out for her when she, without warning, yanked the door open, bringing it hard against his face. The sharp upper corner of the door slammed directly into his right eye, and he screamed in anger and pain, raising his hands to shield his face. Lara slipped through the opening in the doorway, and slammed it shut behind her, locking it again. Knowing it couldn't possibly hold for long once he had regained his senses, she made a mad dive for David's desk.

-Notfastenoughgonnadie-

She tugged open the drawer where David had told her he kept his Beretta 9mm, his 'baby', and muttered a quick Hallelujah upon finding it along with a few spare clips. Grabbing the Beretta, she slammed a magazine in hurriedly, her eyes darting back and forth from the door to the drawer. She cursed, and forced herself to focus, reaching down and gathering the dozen or so remaining mags and stuffing them in the pockets of her lab coat.

With Subject T's angry screams ringing in her ears, she took a deep breath, and walked the short distance to the entrance of the stairwell. Biting her lower lip and praying silently that Subject T wouldn't be close behind, she pulled open that door and slipped into the darkness, gun cocked.

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Oooh. Cliffhanger-ish. Well, what will happen to our heroine NEXT? Will she fall into the hands of any lurking zombies? Review, please? You know where the button is...


	5. The Hunt

**Chapter Four: The Hunt**

**Note:** Well, I got a few less reviews last time than I had hoped... So, I suppose that was a hint that last chapter wasn't too good. So, I suppose I'll just have to do better this chapter! I'm gonna work my ass off and make this a long one.  
And, I'm trying to fix the lack of indentation.. Bear with me.  
Oh, and no, the staircase Lara's going down is NOT the same as the one Subject T came up.

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The once echoing cries of anger and pain that nearly shook the walls of the small room had now tapered off to agonized whimpers, the seemingly undefeatable and abominable beast known as Subject T crouched in a corner with hands shielding his face. Pain still coursed like liquid fire through the right side of his face, his vision blurred and fuzzed over as though someone had dumped liquid plexiglass right into his eye. He hissed suddenly, and yowled fiercely, slamming his left hand into the cement. Cracks spidered out from where his clenched fist had broken into the thick grey floor, and he took a deep breath, whining again like an injured dog. Thoughts in a human voice rang through his mind, his senses beginning to clear now.

As he struggled to comprehend these words that flew through his throbbing and aching head, he realized out of nowhere that he had let his mate escape, both of his eyes going wide. He threw back his head and screeched, clawing at the cement, the air, and slicing right through the console where only hours ago Lara had sat watching him. But thinking of such things only fueled the anger that was boiling deep within him, and he rose, his arms straight at his sides. Now he would have to hunt her again...Which he did not mind so much, leave for the fact that he could smell many more of those rotting things, and all he wanted now was his mate. Curling his upper lip and baring those wickedly sharp teeth, he plowed out the door of the watchroom, preparing himself for another hunt..

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Slowly making her way down the near pitch-black staircase was a very frightened Lara, gun clutched close against her heaving chest. Each step she took seemed to echo almost as much as the sound of her pounding heart, the pressure of the blood in her ears making her believe her head was apt to explode at any given moment.

-Saves the damn zombies the trouble of ripping it open...-

Shaking her head to clear the thought, she bit into her lower lip, her finger squeezing lightly upon the trigger. Blinking a few times to refocus her eyes, she realized that she could see in the distance a prick of light. A feeling of hope swelling in her chest, she licked her dry and cracking lips and ventured onward and downward, stopping every few moments or so to be sure she was really alone. After a few more minutes of this slow pace, she could take it no longer, and began a slow jog down the steps, taking two, sometimes even three steps at a time in her panic. Of course, with this speed, she couldn't stop to listen to her surroundings, but it was a risk she was willing to take if it got her closer to getting out of this hellhole..

Hearing a series of thuds which were completely offbeat from her own moderately heavy steps, she stopped dead in her tracks, having to flail her arms a few times just to keep her balance. Hating herself for stopping so close to the source of the light, which was some twenty odd feet away and easily illuminating a distance of five feet around it, she panted, looking around nervously for the source of the sound. Pointing the barrel of her weapon in the direction she heard the thumps from, she swallowed hard, and slowly inched forward, closer to the light.

The light was hanging in the middle of a four way intersection-type hallway, each different hallway winding off in a different direction and out of sight. So, she had three options. Go straight and up some stairs, which looked to be nearly as dark and dreadful as the ones from whence she had just come; take a left into where she knew was the kitchen area and an elevator; or take a right and into the restricted area, where she might find some information as to how to rid herself of the threat that was Subject T.

Biting her lower lip again, a nervous habit of hers, she looked in each of the three respective directions, straining her ears for any sign of danger. Another series of thuds from the floor above made her jump, a scream rising in her throat and almost escaping her. Only one thing she knew of made noise like that..

"So, he's on the move again... Shit," she hissed through her teeth, making a sort of hop-skip and taking off to the left, her heels clicking and the sound resonating through the tunnels. Having to jump over and step around a few tipped over chairs here and there, she slowed her pace long enough to glance at a map hanging on a wall. Her panic had forced all of her common sense and common knowledge out of her mind, so for the time being, the dizzied Lara really had no idea where she was.

Searching the map hurriedly, Lara released a deep breath upon remembering that the third floor cafeteria and kitchen were just a ways more down the hall. Turning and taking up a fast walk, she continued her trek, relieved to find that she could hear nothing behind her. Finally, she came upon the double doors that led into the spacious cafeteria, where she had dined perhaps too many a time while working the late shift down here. Hope inside her rising all the more, she pushed one door open with her shoulder and stepped in, gripping her gun tightly.

From the moment that door swung open, an overpowering stench filled Lara's nostrils, the odor so sickeningly powerful it nearly made her retch. She put a hand over her mouth as if to stop herself from heaving, her eyes locking immediately into the floor to stop herself from feeling so dizzy. Somewhere on the opposite side of the room, she heard a faint crunching sound, and in between the gnashing of what could be easily identified as meat, she could hear hungry moans, each one sounding a little closer..

Very slowly, she raised her eyes, along with the barrel of the gun, and found herself looking straight into the pus-dripping eyes of a black man. His arms were outstretched as he groped for her, his gaze unblinkingly locked onto her own as he shuffled drunkenly towards her. She took a few steps backward, her fingers unable to move from their current positions.

-Oh my god... This guy's ROTTING...-

She let her gaze waver for a moment, to the left of the steadily approaching man, to where another man sat on his knees, his face buried in the stomach of a woman. The woman's body was sprawled at a sick angle, her legs and back all out of place. The woman's blue shirt had been torn nearly to shreds, what remained of her breasts fully exposed under the dim fluorescent light. The man's face was stained with blood, a huge chunk of the woman's flesh hanging from his jaws like a prize bone from a dog's. His fingertips dug deeply into her chest, making a loud and wet squishing sound as they ripped right through her organs, her blood making fresh stains all about the floor. By the time she had taken the horrifying scene in, the black man nearly had her pushed up against the wall, a hungry wail parting his bleeding lips and drool snaking down his chin onto his suit.

Lara whimpered softly, aiming for the man's chest and firing, the jolt making her knees buckle and her back press against the wall. The man yowled in hunger, but not in pain. He felt no pain now... Lara aimed again, this time for his forehead, and fired once more, the back of the man's head exploding in a spray of tissue and gray matter, his body crumpling on the spot. Lara stared at it, her eyes watery, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. Had she really just shot someone?! Her arms slowly lowered to her sides, her knees beginning to buckle again, just as she remembered that there was one more.. Slowly straightening herself, she stepped over the slightly twitching corpse of the black man, forcing herself not to look down at him.

Slowly and cautiously, she edged her way toward the still feeding man, her stomach turning at the wet gnashing that his teeth made against the woman's warm flesh. She raised the gun, and, trying not to shake, she fired. The man's forehead and eyes exploded outward and splattered all over the woman's body, making Lara turn and finally give in to her urge to vomit, coughing and choking as the bile forced its way out her mouth and onto the cold cement, a yellowish stain that glistened sickeningly under the light. She took a few steps to the left and leaned on one hand against a wall over a trash can, her stomach heaving again, the last of whatever had been in her stomach coating the plastic in the trash can. She whimpered softly, her entire body shaking violently, her vision becoming cloudy. She was in such a daze that she barely heard the crash of the doors being kicked open, and the thundering steps that came up behind her.

Whirling drunkenly to face whatever was behind her, she gasped to find herself staring into the grinning face of Subject T. Shaking her head in fear, she backed away, tripping over herself and falling to the floor. Yet she kept going, scooting away from him, and he kept coming, slinking towards her like a feline ready for the kill.. She gave a light cry of despair as her back hit the wall, her vision still clouding, from the stench, from fear, from the taste..As Subject T leaned down over her, sweet unconsciousness took her once more, and she was in darkness again..

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I hope that was a little more pleasing to the readers.. Now, what will happen to our poor miss Lara? Will Subject T finally 'have' his mate? Or can she use her wit to escape him once again? Review, and you'll find out..


	6. The Inconceivable

**Chapter Five: The Inconceivable**

**Note:** - Tries to count how many reviews she has on her fingers. Runs out of fingers AND toes. - YAY! THANKYOUTHANKYOU! I'm so glad this story's a success.. But, ahem. Now I must get serious. I'm home sick writing this, so I have all day to plot evil things to do to my poor little char'a.

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_-Oh god...I ache...all over...-_

Lara whimpered softly to herself, for the moment unable to open her swollen and red-rimmed eyes. For now, the only thing she could focus on was the incredible ache between her legs, a throbbing pain much like the one that had resided in her head an hour or two ago. A weak smirk formed over her lips, a smirk of realization.

_- Oh.. It's Nick again... I guess dinner wasn't good enough this time...-_

Tears forced themselves from her sealed lids, and she shivered, realizing that she was naked. Something in her mind snapped, telling her to get with the program and to make dinner RIGHT this time, and she grunted, bringing her hands to her face to try and pry her eyelids open.

When something (or someone) grabbed her hands and pinned them at her sides, she froze, not even thinking to struggle. At least not yet. She felt rather than saw someone lean over her, and felt hot, sticky breath in her face, as well as something wet and disgustingly warm dripping onto her neck and running down onto her left breast. Taking as deep a breath as she could, she screamed hard right into the face of whoever was above her, earning a deep-throated growl from her assailant.

One of her arms was released, and she sat halfway up, raking her fingernails blindly until she felt her hand connect with something fleshy and slimy. She clenched her fingers and dug her nails in, until something struck her hard across the cheek, sending her skidding across the floor and into another wall. Crying out in pain and struggling to get to her feet, Lara tried hard to open her eyes as thundering footsteps grew closer.

"Nick, I'm sorry... Let me fix you something else," she mumbled through her swelling jaw, hoping he would LISTEN; not hurt her again, please, God, not again.. Another strike to her cheek saw her on the ground, whimpering and sobbing, and finally she opened her eyes and looked up to look at Nick and beg-

and saw Subject T, a row of claw marks running down one of his own cheeks. His face was contorted with a mix of anger and annoyance, his fingers and claws flexing at his sides as if he were debating upon whether or not to use them. The deep pool of obsidian that still worked properly locked onto her face, and she stared hard at it, ignoring the rivulets of blood that ran down her cheek from where he had hit her.

Shakily reaching up with one hand to her neck to see what had dripped on her while she was unable to see, she gave a shudder of disgust upon finding a trail of saliva upon her fingers. Lifting her chin to again stare into the face of Subject T, she slowly got to her feet, pressing her back against the icy cold wall as if to make herself smaller. Lingering in her mouth was the coppery taste of blood, and she turned her head and spat, her eyes never leaving Subject T's face.

Blinking slowly, he tilted his head and growled deep in his throat, lowering his head between his shoulders and snorting. Having no idea what he was doing, Lara slowly edged her way around him, trying to head for the door some thirty feet away.. If she could get out of his reach, she knew she could outrun him...

She also knew he must either not care that she was trying to get away, or that he enjoyed chasing her, her breathing slow and deep as she continued to move away from the confused-looking Subject T, still pressed to the wall. Longing inwardly for the Beretta and some clothes, she moved a few more inches before turning and bolting as fast as she could for the open door, her heart pounding in her chest. Not even caring about the heavy footsteps that followed her, she sprinted through the doorway and took only a moment to look around, realizing that she was back in the cafeteria before skirting a few tables and dashing for the double doors that led into the hallway.

Hearing a crunch of glass and metal behind her, as well as an irritated roar from her follower, she stopped only because of a glint of metal to her right. Ten feet or so to her right was the Beretta, along with two spare clips. Trying to shove himself through the door thirty feet away was Subject T, his rage quite apparent. Making a jump to the right, she knelt and frantically grabbed for the gun and the mags, cursing and praying all at the same time before getting to her feet and scrambling out the door.

With one final shove of his broad shoulders, Subject T forced himself through the door frame and lumbered for the double doors where his mate had exited, her scent heavy in the air. Though now that he had mated with her, the only real objective left was to make sure none of those foul smelling things got to her.. Licking his lips and shoving his way through the doors, he sniffed at the air and howled, following her trail with a wicked grin upon his lips.

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Panting hard, Lara shoved her back against the wall, straining her ears for the sound of footsteps. For the moment, she heard only distant ones, and grinned tiredly to herself, allowing her legs to buckle and fold beneath her so she could sit and rest. Praying that no zombie or monster or anything would find her in this storage room, she looked around slowly, her mind working at a mile a minute in order for her to formulate a way out of here.

The room was empty, leave for a small grey combination locker in one corner, though it seemed that the room wasn't big enough to hold much else. Sighing and pressing her palms against the wall, Lara pushed herself to her feet and walked the three or so steps to it, leaning tiredly against it and trying to pry it open with her hands. Grunting with the effort, she cursed, pulling hard until finally the locker swung open with a dry squeak.

Inside were some old papers, undoubtedly connected to the restricted part of the lab (which she was in), some men's jeans, and a black vest. Deciding right away that she really didn't need to run around naked anymore, she pulled the jeans out first, slipping one leg in at a time and pulling them up. Her hands stopping at mid-thigh, a gasp escaping her lips as her eyes met with her inner thighs, the skin an array of blues and purples.

Forcing herself to ignore her injuries for the moment, she smiled halfheartedly upon finding that the jeans fit her almost perfectly despite the fact that they were a bit loose on her hips, but it didn't matter so much. Next came the vest, which she just pulled on and zipped up in front. On the inside of the door was a small mirror, and she gave herself a typical once over before grabbing the Beretta and the clips. Beginning to shake again at the thought of having to go back out there, she slowly slid the clips into the pockets of the jeans, making sure she was really ready for this..

She wondered, though, what made her think of her old boyfriend, Nick, when she woke up. She laughed nervously to no one in particular, and unconsciously lowered a hand to brush it over her inner thigh, wincing slightly. Chewing lightly on her lower lip and cocking her weapon, she turned the handle and pushed open the door.

She stopped dead when the door hit something, or perhaps someone, and a deep moan of surprise rang out through the corridor. Slowly stepping back, Lara growled under her breath and pulled the door towards her again, then shoved it outwards as hard as she could. Just as she hoped, a thud and a light shuffling could be heard, and she jumped around to the side of the door, quickly aiming for the head of what could be easily identified as one of the infected employees.

The curly-haired man turned his head slowly up towards her, his neck making a stomach-turning popping sound. His mouth dropped open and he grabbed at her, hissing and drooling and groaning for all he was worth. Shaking her head slowly, Lara closed her eyes and pulled the trigger, so she wouldn't have to watch as the man's brains littered the off-white wall. She inhaled shakily, and opened her eyes, making sure not to let her eyes wander near the convulsing corpse.

Glancing down to the dark end of the unfamiliar hallway, she strained her ears once more to pick out the sound of footsteps, or perhaps another warning moan. She heard nothing, nothing but an odd dripping sound from above her..

Walking in a slow circle, she glanced upward, and did a double-take upon seeing what clung to the ceiling just above her. It looked just like any of the other employees, leave for the fact that it was bald, naked, and its tongue was perhaps two, maybe three feet in length, whipping through the air like a live wire. The what appeared to be man's body was nearly skinless, much like Subject T's, tiny little hairs protruding from his body like that of a fly, allowing him to hang from the ceiling as he was now.

Lara's eyes grew wide as the man hissed at her, his tongue lashing at her arm, the same one that held the gun. She screamed in pure agony as his tongue touched her skin, feeling like someone had poured acid upon her, her flesh actually smoking and blistering right before her eyes. The gun flew across the hall, skidding and coming to a stop some twenty-five feet from where she was crouched, cradling her still blistering arm.

The man's pure yellow eyes were locked onto her, targeting her, and as that tongue dropped from his wide open maw, Lara heard thundering footsteps from behind her, approaching at what must have been a running pace. Slowly, nervously turning her head to look behind her, Lara's eyes couldn't have gotten any wider as Subject T came barreling down the corridor, his eyes locked onto her.

Lara whimpered and forced herself to her feet, backing into the wall and looking from one threat to the other, just staring in disbelief, unable to make herself move. Subject T kept coming towards her, his eyes blazing with anger and his claws dripping with fresh blood. Skidding to a halt right between Lara and the thing dangling from the ceiling, Subject T glared menacingly at the creature that DARED attack his mate, nostrils flaring and fists clenched.

Lara's jaw dropped, her injured arm forgotten as she watched Subject T DEFEND her from this weird-science-project-freaky-monster-thing, even uglier than himself. He swiped his claws at the lashing tongue until finally they sliced right through it, the tongue dropping to the ground and slithering about like an eel. The thing on the ceiling yowled in a high pitch that made Lara's head hurt, and dropped to the floor, writhing in agony.

Subject T took this opportunity to place his clawed foot upon the head of the thing and push hard, the head imploding and shattering like a watermelon, little chunks of rotting meat splattering all about the floor. After a few moments, the body just stopped moving, and soon after, the tongue did as well.

Subject T grinned proudly, and slowly turned to face his mate, blinking slowly at the look of fear still plastered upon her pale features. He reached out for her shaking form, and she flinched, shrinking back. He purred, an unfamiliar noise to her, and she just blinked stupidly, staring up at him like a frightened animal. He reached down, and, being as careful of his claws as he could, hoisted her over his shoulder.

She was smart enough not to struggle, know that one wrong move could result in her becoming Lara-kabobs.. A shudder ran through her as she realized that she was again helpless, and just let herself go limp, held over his warm and sticky form. He began to walk down the corridor, lightly nuzzling his cheek into her leg, and she smirked, speaking aloud to herself.

"At least I know it can't POSSIBLY get any worse.."

At that very moment, a door at the end of the hall burst open, a chorus of wails and moans ringing out through the entire hallway. Struggling to lift her chin far enough so that she could see, Lara cried out in surprise as she saw perhaps a dozen more of those bizarre licker-type creatures crawling on all fours down the hall at a moderate pace. Subject T turned halfway, and growled in slight irritation, obviously not in the mood..

So he ran.

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Well. That was odd.. A little background on Lara. Abusive boyfriends SUCK. ! And yes, Subject T got some while she was unconscious, if that's what you're wondering. But anyways, I hope that was pleasing. Please review! Thankies!


	7. The Chase

**Chapter Six: The Chase**

**Note:** Updates are hard to come by.. I'm SO depressed.. U.u; Reviews would make me NOT depressed, y'know... o.-; I'll try really hard to update more often, but around January I get REALLY depressed due to the anniversary of my father's death. But anyways, on with the story.

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And he ran some more.

Surprisingly fast for someone of his bulk, plus the weight of Lara, who was clinging onto him for dear life. Behind them they could hear the unhappy sounding hisses and wails of the undoubtedly hungry licker-things, their nails scrabbling on the floor as they struggled to keep up. Subject T continued, though, rounding a corner with unnerving ease and taking off again at breakneck speed.

'He hasn't looked back even once...' Lara thought, trying to find some way to hold onto him and stiffen her neck so her head would stop bobbing to and fro. Aside from Subject T's back and motoring legs, she could see nothing but her flying hair. With each step he took, the wind was nearly knocked out of her, and she wheezed slightly. Unaware for the time being, he kept his pace, eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out where to go next..

This wide gap between the chasers and the chase-ees only seemed to be getting wider as they continued down one particularly long corridor, breath coming in pants and sweat beading on both their brows. His eyes glinting as he spotted another T junction up ahead, he flipped a mental coin and chose to go right.

Making his strides longer to further widen the gap between he and their pursuers, Subject T made a full out dash for the end of the hallway. In his mind he took note that the lights appeared to be out in the hall he had chosen, but it was a little late now, what with him skidding to a complete stop with claws grinding almost painfully into the cement. He continued to skid for a few more feet, leaving Lara wincing and groaning softly from the horrid nails-on-chalkboard noise, before taking off again, this time into the eerily dim passageway that he had previously chosen.

Even with the approaching danger, he moved more slowly into this hall, something telling him he had made the wrong choice in coming this way. As his ears picked up the sound of the lickers finally turning the corner behind them, he growled for the first time in a while. He was confused now, his brain screaming at him to turn back, his strides slowing and soon stopping, vision now clouded by darkness.

Lara whimpered slightly, wondering why they had stopped running and if this meant they were going to die, while Subject T stared out hard in front of him. His thoughts drowning out the gnashing and high pitched screaming of their hungry followers, he slowly reached out a clawed hand, and jolted when the tips of his claws hit something.. Something hard and flat..

He thrust the palm of his hand against it, and uttered a low growl of surprise upon finding that the hard flat thing was a wall.

They had come to a dead end.

Subject T's eyes glittered dangerously, and he slowly bent forward and placed Lara upright on the floor. Straightening himself, he glanced to his left, somewhat pleased that his vision was adjusting to the darkness quickly. Lara righted herself, and boldly stepped to the side so that Subject T wasn't in her way, her eyes widening as she watched the drooling pack of lickers approach. He could tell by her expression and by the scent she was giving off that she was afraid, and by the triumphant screams of their pursuers that he'd have to fight.

Lara averted her gaze, raising it to his face as if to ask what in the BLOODY HELL she was supposed to do. Subject T blinked once or twice at her, then just lightly shoved her into a corner. Squeaking in surprise as she bashed into the wall, she made as if to come towards him. The only thing to stop her was a warning growl from Subject T, and she finally got the hint and stayed there, staring at him wide-eyed like some kind of a frightened animal.

Subject T turned his back to her, taking some five paces forward and blinking stupidly. The dim hallway was empty and silent, leave for a few papers here and there and the heavy breathing of his frightened mate. Lightly sniffing at the air, he growled softly, straining his ears for any other noise at all.

A clicking noise and a wet gurgle above him made his head snap back, his eyes locking onto the ceiling directly above where he stood. Staring down at him were three of the original six lickers, their tongues for the moment hidden away within the recesses of their mouths. A low, dry hiss escaped the half open maw of the largest one (obviously the leader), and the other two echoed it, the tips of their tongues peeking from their scarred lips. Subject T growled in a deep and menacing tone, his eyes narrowing and one hand raising with claws and fingers spread in a defensive manner.

Lara stared from her dark corner, arms folded over her chest and knees slightly bent. Thoughts raced through her again aching head at a million miles per hour as she watched, for some ungodly reason silently hoping Subject T would come out of this unscathed. She tried to shake off that particular thought for the time being, and bit into her lower lip, shivering lightly from the chill that hung in the air. So, it seemed, she was unaware of the danger that loomed right above her...

Subject T stared hard, raking his claws at the three looming lickers, but then he heard something behind him, a clicking of sorts. He whipped his head around, just in time to see a fourth licker drop from the ceiling and land in a crouch between he and his mate. It completely ignored his yowl of anger, and reared up on its back legs, preparing to lunge for the terrified and screaming Lara.

Of course still in her corner, all she could do was scream and stare into the skinless face and the sharp-toothed grin spread across it as it launched towards her, almost in slow motion. That tongue whipped around freely now, and just as it and that ugly and misshapen face got within an easy six inches of hers, the straight path towards her changed to one that pushed it right into the wall, made so by the ramming of Subject T's head into the licker's side.

The licker yowled and slumped to the floor, its torso crushed and blood dribbling out from its gaping mouth. Lara's mouth dropped open and her heart skipped several beats as she watched the licker's eyes roll back and the lids close halfway, the body going slack. Subject T gnashed his teeth and hissed, turning his attention from the now dead licker to the two smaller ones that had dropped to the floor and were now crawling towards him, eyes glowing dangerously. Their bellies dragged lightly on the cold cement as they moved in, the third watching from the ceiling with a snort every few moments.

Lara pushed herself hard into the corner, and Subject T knew he had to act fast, able to tell by the desperate looks on the lickers' faces that they were hungry, and would do almost anything to get at his mate.. He turned and launched himself at one of them, earning a shriek of surprise from the skinless brute as he landed upon it, pinning it down and knocking the wind out of it. It slashed at him with its weak claws before deploying its more powerful weapon: that lance-like tongue.

It shot from the licker's open mouth and wrapped around Subject T's arm, making him howl in pain as his flesh began to burn and bubble beneath the tongue's grip. Meanwhile, the second licker leaped at his back, biting and clawing and rubbing that seemingly acid-coated tongue all over Subject T's exposed back. Subject T yowled again and drove two of his claws right down into the eyes of the licker beneath him, listening to it scream and feeling it flail helplessly beneath him.

The tongue loosened just slightly, and Subject T yanked his claws out of the oozing eyes of the licker and, in a scissor-like move, snipped off the attacking tongue with them. Grunting, Subject T shoved his fist down into the face of the licker with such force that the head simply crushed beneath his hand, imploding upon itself in a spray of blood and tissue.

The licker behind him continued to attack mercilessly, however, the flesh on the back of Subject T's neck nearly black now and high with blood blisters. He reached back with both hands and groped for the head of his assailant, yowling in utter agony as that tongue continued to burn through his flesh and partly into the tough muscle.

Finally, Subject T gripped the sides of the licker's head and leaned forward, grunting and flinging the licker several feet into the wall. In the process, though, his claws sliced cleanly through the top half of the thing's head, and once the rigid body had slumped to the floor after hitting the wall, the upper section of its head simply fell off, dropping to the ground wetly.

A gush of blood and grey matter followed, and Lara held back a scream, forcing her eyes away from the gruesome sight and locking them onto the bleeding and whimpering Subject T. He turned his eyes to her, a humanesque look of pain there, and Lara took a few unconscious steps toward him, not seeing the last licker drop from the ceiling and crawl up behind the massive Subject T.

Subject T slowly tried to push himself to his feet, and after he had straightened himself and taken two small steps towards his mate, he felt a searing and indescribable pain in his stomach, his mouth opening but no sound coming out. His head dropped and his eyes lowered to his stomach for the source of the burning pain, and he screamed upon seeing a veiny, pointy thing sticking out of his stomach. Lara's eyes grew wide and a light moan of horror spilled from her lips, her hands raising to her face in an unconscious act of shock.

The licker jerked its tongue back out of Subject T's stomach, hissing as if to put in the last word. It dropped back to all fours and grinned, teeth glittering with fresh blood as Subject T dropped to his knees, hands pressing to his stomach. All he could do was stare dumbly at the blood that dribbled down his stomach and legs, onto the floor and making a neat little circle beneath him.

Just stare as the licker skirted his whimpering form and sauntered slowly towards his mate.

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I hope that was a good enough update.. SO sorry for this taking so long... And thank you so much for my most loyal-est ( O.o ) reviewers, Vetarru Cetkarr and michiru. I love you guys.. - Eyes get all teary. -


	8. No One Is Invincible

Chapter Seven: No One Is Invincible  
  
A/N: :: Bites the finger that poked her. :  
I know, I know. I deserve a kick in the ass for taking so long.. I been depressed and sick, now. My mom was kind enough to share the flu with me. --; Don't you just love when your family does that? But anyways, on with our story. I hope to maybe get to 100 reviews... Perhaps you could assist me with that?  
  
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The thing slowly slunk towards a gaping Lara, disgustingly long tongue dragging behind it on the ground. A trail of blood marked its path, still dribbling and oozing off of that eely and purplish appendage. Lara whimpered uncontrollably, shaking hard, her eyes darting back and forth between the grinning licker and Subject T, who was busy trying to force himself to his feet.  
  
"Shit..I don't want to die here...!"  
  
Tears formed in her wide eyes, spilling over paled cheeks and falling unnoticed onto the vest. The licked stopped when it was within perhaps two feet of her, nostrils flaring as it took in the fresh scent of fear. Subject T yowled and stumbled forward, his vision tinted red and his body burning with fresh waves of pain. He gnashed his teeth at the licker, who had by now turned to stare blankly at him, drooling and foaming blood and saliva all over himself and making a general mess. Yet still he staggered forward, whimpering and growling and moaning all in the same instance.  
  
- What the fuck are you DOING?! - Lara's mind screamed, awestruck that he could even be walking with an injury of that caliber. Wiping the back of her arm across her face to brush away the tears that blurred her vision, she stared dumbly at the gaping wound in Subject T's stomach, gushing more blood with each heavy step he took. One part of her wanted to run to him, for some UNGODLY reason help him; the other was repulsed beyond belief and merely wished to shrivel up and vanish. The licker hissed dryly, more a taunting and victorious sound than a sound of warning, its beady eyes glittering triumphantly as it took in the damage it had done to Subject T.  
  
Subject T locked his eyes onto the gloating licker's, a faint growl rising in his throat as he tried to force himself further forward. His legs felt like putty beneath him, wobbling and threatening to give way. Lara bit hard into her lower lip, until she noticed the coppery taste of blood. She blinked, having felt no pain, but kept her eyes and mind focused on Subject T. Her mind screamed words of encouragement to him, her hands clasped in front of her like some kind of a mother trying to get her child to walk to her; eyes wide in terror and desperation.  
  
The licker took a couple of wary steps to the side, both away from Lara and out of the path of the angry-looking thing that was steadily coming closer, its eyes narrowing and webbed claw/fingers flexing. Subject T bared his blood-covered teeth at it, and it shrunk back, tongue lifting into the air defensively. Obviously, its nerve had gone somewhere off into La-La Land, and wasn't coming back anytime soon...  
  
Subject T crouched down weakly, making as if to leap for the now very nervous-looking licker, his eyes narrowing and glittering dangerously. Just as he prepared to launch himself through the air, the licker's tongue shot forward and wrapped around one of his ankles, making him cry out in pain and shock. The tongue tightened around Subject T's burning ankle, and with one sharp yank, he was on his back on the floor. Lara cried out in her own shock, which must have surprised the licker, because it glanced towards her, tongue still attatched to the writhing Subject T.  
  
Glaring hard at the licker, Lara leapt at it, finding herself pleased at the cry of shock it uttered as she landed on its back. Wrapping her arms around its neck and her legs around its waist, she braced herself, made a face, and bit hard into the thing's shoulder. It yowled, rearing back, flailing its short arms and trying to claw at her, but she pressed herself close against its back and bit harder, her stomach reeling from the sour taste of its slimy flesh.  
  
His vision clearing from that hard fall, Subject T lifted his head with a very unhappy sounding moan, and stared at the brawling Lara and licker. He blinked, wondering what had gotten into the cowering woman that had been there only a few moments ago, before forcing himself to a sitting position. Then, he finally noticed that that horridly slimy tongue was still wrapped around his charred ankle. He hissed angrily, and the licker stopped struggling against the attacking female to stare stupidly at Subject T as he moved his hand toward its tongue. Lara pulled her mouth back, spitting and moaning softly from the taste that burned her lips, the licker's blood running down her chin. She took a deep breath, gagging repeatedly, and let go of the licker, falling onto her back.  
  
Subject T snarled viciously at this, wrapping his fingers around the tongue that had by now blackened the flesh around his right ankle. He lifted his eyes and stared hard into the face of the licker, then grinned maliciously, giving that writhing tongue a sharp yank and sending the licker face-first onto the floor. It yowled and spat and hissed, trying to yank its tongue from his grasp, while scrabbling its claws against the cement.  
  
One of its motoring feet caught Lara in the chest, pressing her back against the wall and crushing her breasts briefly before going back to waving through the air, leaving Lara panting. Subject T decided that he had had quite enough of all this nonsense, and slowly pushed himself to his feet. He squeezed the tongue hard between his fingers, leaving the licker-thing screaming in pain and frustration. As he felt his fingers burn, he gritted his teeth, stepping forward towards the squealing thing on the ground before him. An animalistic anger burned in his deep charcoal eyes, and he lifted his foot, pressing it against the squirming head of the licker and pinning it solidly to the ground, watching as it stared up at him.  
  
Lara took this opportunity to scoot away, quite sure she knew what was coming next, her eyes wide in fear and still evident disgust from her little taste-test. Pondering for a moment, Subject T stooped down over the licker, tongue in hand, and began to wrap it around the thing's neck. Carefully and slowly, sometimes ending up cutting into the slimy thing because of how much it squirmed, he wrapped the tongue around three or four times before stopping, glancing to his mate and grinning wickedly.  
  
Taking told of the very end of the tongue and part of it near the base, Subject T pressed his foot in a tiny bit harder and began to pull on both ends of that slippery appendage, feeling it close in around the thing's airway. It began to squeak and toss and writhe, struggling for air as he pulled tighter, until he decided to stop, watching it squirm helplessly beneath his clawed toes. He growled at it, nonunderstandable words of hatred and anger that had boiled up inside him, his voice fluctuating in an almost human tone. Lara stared, open-mouthed at the scene, leaning back on her hands and blinking stupidly at the impossibility of it all.  
  
After a few more agonizingly high pitched squeaks, the licker gave one last shove of its body against the ground, then went still, eyes rolling back into its head. Subject T released the tongue and stumbled back, staring hard at the foul-smelling thing, his eyes cold. Lara pressed one hand against the wall and got to her feet, taking a couple of wary steps toward him, inwardly hoping he hadn't blown some kind of mental fuse and wouldn't turn and slice her head off.  
  
He slowly turned to look at her, and she sunk her teeth into her lower lip, her eyes lowering to lock onto the wound. It looked worse now, the flesh swollen and black from where the tongue had burned it. The blood flow was tapering off, but still trickled freely down his back and stomach, dripping lightly onto the floor and mingling with the spilled blood of the three lickers he had killed. As her eyes lifted back to his face, Lara's breath caught in her throat. That cold expression had turned to one of utter agony, and when Subject T whimpered, it was all she would do to not go to him and cradle him like some kind of hurt puppy.  
  
- What are you thinking, for Chrissake?! He...RAPED..you..! He's not some lost little puppy in some gutter in an alley! He's a..freak! -  
  
But something in her gut told her otherwise. Something in those hurt and humanesque obsidian eyes called to her, and she just didn't know what to do. She growled to herself under her breath, trying to force all of this nonsense from her head, but she just COULDN'T, and turned, slamming her injured fist against the wall.  
  
"DAMMIT!"  
  
Her curse echoed through the hallways. Lara grimaced, and shook her head, wondering what the hell had gotten into her. She took a couple of deep breaths, and opened her eyes again, letting them come back into focus on the ugly, steel walls of the restricted lab area. She knew that in order to get out of this alive, she'd have to stick with Subject T. As much as she either loved..or hated... the idea, it was her only hope of survival with no weapons and no backup. For all she knew, there might not even be a way out of this hellhole..  
  
Sighing, she slowly turned to face Subject T, deciding she'd try to communicate with him. Except he wasn't there. She looked around, then finally glanced down. Lying on his back was a half-unconscious Subject T, looking somehow pale and worn out. His breathing was shallow and ragged, and his eyes were beginning to glaze. Lara's heart skipped several beats.  
  
"Oh, god... No.. "  
  
She dropped to her knees next to his head and gently pulled it into her lap, trying her best to ignore the blood that began to soak its way into her jeans. Gazing down at Subject T's face, she some reason found herself stroking the side of his face, trying to soothe the whimpers that escaped his throat. She shook her head and moved her eyes again to the wound, biting her lower lip and wincing just from the sight.  
  
Slowly sliding his head from her lap and laying it back on the cement, she got to her feet and boldy jogged to the end of the hallway, to the T junction. She stared straight in front of her, to a door marked "RESTRICTED". Well, durr. She was already in the restricted zone. Not like it mattered if she went in there, right? She knew there HAD to be some form of medical care center around here.. There just HAD to.  
  
Turning back, she ran as fast as she could back to his side, and knelt for some reason forcing a dry and determined smile, speaking more to herself than anyone.  
  
"You are NOT going to die down here. "  
  
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A/N: Need.. Caffeine... rgh... 12:38 am... blah. Review. Now. Please. TT; 


	9. Danger Within The Tomb

Chapter Eight: Danger Within The Tomb  
  
A/N: So tired... I'm just bored out meh mind and need sumpin' to do. BUT I FINALLY GOT TO 100!!!! ^__^!!! But I'd still better be getting a bunch of reviews... It's a good ego boost. :: nodnod. ::  
By the way, if you need another good fic to read, go read Engineering of Swords by Vetarru Cetkarr. Two reasons: A) It's really freakin' good, and B) WE NEED TO MAKE HER UPDATE IT! So, someone should take the hint and write the next chapter :: Cough cough. ::  
Anyways, on with it. ^_^;  
  
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Lightly sliding and arm under his neck and shoulders, Lara grunted softly and helped him into a very awkward sitting position, obviously not a good idea because more blood spurted from his wound in thick bands. Subject T whimpered softly, too weak too make much more noise than even that.  
  
"Shit.. I'm sorry.."  
  
She scrunched up her nose and raised her eyes to his face, which was contorted with pain, his eyes beginning to glaze. He began to try and lean back again, almost crushing her arm against the floor with his weight. The only thing that stopped him from fully lying back and possibly breaking her arm was a shallow cry of pain that escaped her throat, leaving him sitting almost fully upright despite the burning pain that made his head throb.  
  
Biting her lower lip upon seeing his reaction to her pain, she slowly slid an arm around his back, making a face at the odd feelings stirring within her. She didn't at all like the thought that she might feel anything but negative emotion towards this hideous and otherwise disgusting creature, her skin tingling a bit just from the contact between them. Yet, she knew that she owed him something for saving her life on these numerous occasions, and knew that she had to do the same for him now.  
  
Lightly pushing on his back, then stopping after a moment, she decided it would be best to try and talk to him. Maybe it would soothe those little grunts and whimpers he kept releasing, his breathing erratic as he tried to force himself to stay upright. Something in her mind screamed that that was one of the most insane ideas of all time, yet she pushed it aside, drawing a shaky breath and speaking as softly and gently as she could.  
  
"Okay.. Look..We need to get you out of here..." she motioned with a hand to his stomach, then continued. "You're hurt badly, and I am not going to let you die." After a moment or two, she quickly added, "I sure as hell don't want to deal with those things all by myself.. "  
  
Subject T let a crooked, weak-looking grin spread over his face, and he dog-paddled through his swimming mind to try and find a gesture to show that he understood. He recalled something that people did, maybe even that he used to do, a bobbing motion with the head..  
  
Blinking as Subject T's head moved in a nod-like fashion, Lara was so dumbfounded that she almost didn't hear the faint groan that wafted down the tunnel towards them from what could only be the way they had originally come. Her jaw dropped in shock, and Subject T began to growl, that glaze in his eyes fading somewhat as he began to struggle to get to his feet again.   
  
Lara quickly scrambled behind him, and helped by pushing him upwards and to his feet, steadying him in an upright position and cautiously sliding an arm around his waist to make sure he didn't fall. Both of them knew this was no time to stand there and look stupid, as those groans seemed to be getting a tad louder each time they sounded off, and they seemed to come from more than one source..  
  
The two began a slow and deliberate walk down the hallway, Subject T limping and almost slipping in the sticky mess that covered the floor, and Lara quite worried she'd end up crushed under him if he fell. But she kept her side pressed up against him, using all her will power not to squirm from the eely feel of his skin. As they neared the T junction, Lara had to try and peer around him to see down the hall to find out just how many undead visitors they would soon have. What she saw made her gasp, her mind having not been ready for quite that many.  
  
Limping toward them drunkenly were perhaps ten of the hungry looking things, half rotting by now and their faces beginning to sink in. Their eyes had sunk into the sockets and glazed over, and one woman's eye had somehow even popped loose, hanging by a sick mass of cords and tendon and flopping wetly as she walked. A few of them were missing limbs, their clothes and skin drenched with fresh and dry blood alike, the stench coming from them overpowering and stomach-turning, almost enough to make one's eyes water. Upon seeing the two in the hallway, a loud chorus of groans rose, and any arms that could rise did so, groping at the air even though there was still some forty feet or so between all of them.  
  
Subject T began to growl, and Lara felt him try and pull away from her and turn towards the oncoming swarm. She tugged at his arm, and growled a bit herself, pulling him towards the door that was a mere twenty-some feet from where they stood. They were so close...  
  
Lara felt her chest growing tight and her head spinning as she went into a sort of panic, yanking on Subject T's arm with strength that came out of nowhere and almost dragging him the rest of the way to the door. After a moment or two, Subject T stopped struggling against her grip and went along with her, watching her as she wrapped her shaking hands around the huge metal handle and pulled hard. After a few moments, the door came open with a bone chilling squeak, like the kind you'd hear in those cheap horror flicks, and Lara stumbled backward, the heavy door moving automatically backward on a track and opening until it was almost fully against the wall.   
  
Lara blinked for a moment, slowly sticking her head into the semi-dark little room to be sure it was safe. All other things forgotten for the moment, she groped blindly for the light switch, and upon finding it (as well as the door close button), she stepped to the side to allow room for Subject T to step in. In the middle of the somewhat large, circular-shaped room, there was a medium sized tank filled with an odd-smelling green liquid. The tank appered to be sealed, yet she could still smell that sickly-sweet stuff, wrinkling her nose at it.   
  
Her curiosity getting the better of her, she began to slowly walk away from the injured Subject T, quite sure he would be fine for the moment, utterly captivated by the sight of the tank. There was a row of buttons upon the lower part of it, and she knelt to get a closer look at them, running her eyes over the panel of multi-colored keys. She heard Subject T slowly lumber up behind her, and found herself unconsciously scooting closer to the tank and almost pressing herself against the little row of buttons that did God knows what.  
  
Subject T stared down at his mate, his mind clouded and the pain a distant thing by now, his vision a bit blurred. But it seemed not to matter to him as he gazed intently at her, wondering just what she was doing down there on the floor, running her hands over little different colored things that jutted from that round thing.. Even with the injury, he hated having attention stolen from him, and snorted a few times to show his distaste.  
  
He tried to bend over her to closer examine whatever it was she was looking at, but found himself screeching aloud as a wave of pain tore through his abdomen and legs. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea...   
  
Upon hearing that pained little cry, Lara jumped forward in surprise, her chest and stomach pressing against the little console type thing. One of her breasts, or perhaps one of her hands jammed beneath them must have hit one or more of the buttons, because there was a loud whirring noise, and something that sounded like a trap door opening inside the tank. The two of them just blinked for a moment, staring intently at the side of the container as that thrum continued. After what must have been a full minute, it ceased, and the room was silent, leave for the banging of the hungry zombies upon the door they had come through.   
  
Lara peered into the green stuff once more, again wrinkling her nose. Was it her, or had that smell just gotten a LOT stronger..? She glanced over her shoulder to Subject T, to make sure he was doing okay, but he made an odd growling noise, looking past her and at the tank. She raised a brow, quickly turning her head and locking her eyes back onto the now glowing container. What she saw floating inside it made her jump backward and her heart stop, eyes going wide.  
  
Lara guessed that the ugly thing was a good seven feet tall, though at the moment curled into a fetal position with eyes closed and head tucked into its knees. It looked rather human, like Subject T, but with much longer arms, each perhaps five feet in length. The hands only had three fingers each, as if the thumb were its own; the index and middle had melded to become one, and the ring and little finger had melded. Its flesh was grey and discolored, very slimy-looking and obviously scarred, many lacerations visible even through the nasty-smelling green stuff. The thing's mouth was positively HUGE, covering more than half it's face, and it had no lips. Its teeth were long, jagged, and came in several rows, each smaller than the last until they were almost not visible.  
  
- They look sharp enough to pierce steel.. - Lara thought, another hard shudder running through her body as her eyes slid to the top of the thing's head. There, and running all the way down its back, was a long row of tentacles. Each of them appeared to be perhaps three feet long, eerily reminding Lara of the licker's tongues by their shape and texture, what with their tiny little bumps and even little spiky hairs protruding from them. They waved lightly in the watery green liquid, one of them having moved around the thing's back and the tip now brushing against the glass as if reaching for them.  
  
The whole time Lara was staring at this ugly beast, Subject T was growling in a way she hadn't ever heard, a lower pitch and a more vicious manner, his head lowered and his claws flexed as if he meant to leap and attack the tank itself. Slowly, she reached over, managing to pry her eyes from the creature and rest them on him, and laid her hand on his arm. He jumped, and made as if to strike her with his claws, panting weakly and tiredly. He lowered his claws, shifting his gaze to meet with her own and ceasing his growl.  
  
"Alright, alright. Let's get out of here. That thing gives me the fucking creeps. "  
  
As if in agreement, Subject T snorted, turning his head to stare at it. Lara looked past the tank and to another pair of doors. One of them was a plain, grey steel door, and the other one was painted white, the words upon it making butterflies rise in her chest and that age old HALLELUJAH!! music ring in her head. MEDICAL WING.  
  
She reached over and grabbed his arm again, gently tugging him towards the door and inwardly praying that the fucking thing would be unlocked, her heart beginning to pound with anticipation. Something just didn't feel right about this room, and she didn't want to be here any longer. Something in her mind told her that it was childish to be afraid; the zombies couldn't get in here behind them unless they learned to drive a tank or use grenades, and Subject T seemed well enough to kill any they might encounter up ahead. So why was her chest so tight and that awful sinking feeling in her stomach getting worse..?  
  
She swallowed hard and tried to force it out of her mind, glancing over her shoulder to the tank. It seemed to look just the same.. Had the thing turned a little? Nah, maybe the green stuf had just shifted it. But it was FACING them.. Nah. Just the green stuff. She nodded matter-of-factly to herself, and turned back to Subject T, seeing him blick in what seemed to be concern at her. she shook her head and grasped the door handle, shoving the door open and walking right in. It smelled clean in here, an immediate signal that there were no zombies running amok.  
  
But it was pitch black, so there was no way of knowing what there WAS. Lara groped around again, muttering something to herself about needing a hot bath and a raise, then smirked when her fingers bumped the lightswitch. Both feeling and hearing Subject T meander up behind her again as she flipped the light on, she this time didn't get squirmy about it, too busy glancing about the room to much care.  
  
She heard the door slam shut behind them, grimacing from the suddenness of the sound, and glancing behind her to make sure Subject T hadn't flipped out. He stared blankly at her, obviously losing some of that spark that he had gained for a while.   
  
"Shit.. Okay, hold on.. Gimme a second to think.. "  
  
She looked to a corner of the room, where there a was a cot. It looked pretty sturdy from her vantage point, not one of those spindly legged ones, but a fully-filled in, steel-rimmed box. She shifted her gaze back and forth from him to it, wondering if it would hold him, before deciding that trial and error would be the best method and taking his arm again to direct him to it. Knowing that he must feel either like a puppy or like a small child, what with her leading him around so often, she let go of him and just allowed him to follow her the rest of the way across the mostly empty room.   
  
"Sit for a second while I find bandages, alright..?"  
  
As he slowly lowered his bulky form onto the cot, she smiled a bit, and turned, heading for the desk by the door. She knelt, and began to dig through the drawers, glancing over her shoulder at the now lying down Subject T. He looked almost innocent, SOMEHOW, lying there with glazed eyes, arm hanging limply over the side of the paper-lined surface. But that was ridiculous, right? All he was good for now ws ensuring that she got out of this mess alive. She couldn't afford to end up actually feeling anything towards..  
  
She sighed, leaning forward and resting her forehead against the edge of the desk. Okay, so she DID feel something. She just didn't know what, or why. It was wrong, and she knew it. But he was still so human..  
  
Shaking her head, she pursed her lips and held up her prize, an unused roll of bandages, and got to her feet, slowly making her way back to the cot. She forced herself to smile, knowing that he wasn't stupid and that if he knew anything was wrong he might kill her. Dying really didn't appeal to her.  
  
Subject T whimpered lightly to her, staring up into those cerulean-tinted eyes. He would have rolled onto his back so he could better see her, but the gaping wound made it just a tad bit too painful right then.. With a half whine, half growl, he closed his eyes, falling into blissful sleep. Lara blinked at this sudden change, but lightly rested a hand on the side of his head, seeing that he was breathing somewhat normally, and that the blood flow had pretty much stopped.   
  
- He's going to be okay.. - She thought with a light smile, slowly and quietly walking back to the desk and lifting the chair into her arms. As carefully as she could, she carried it over next to the cot and placed it down, before sitting and replacing her hand upon his head. She stroked with her thumb for a brierf moment, before reluctantly withdrawing her hand and folding her arms over her chest, tucking her hands under her arms.   
  
Leaning back, she stared intently at the floor, trying to let all of this soak in. It seemed all too much; just yesterday she had been drinking coffee with these people, and now she ran from them in fear they would eat her. God, how she wanted to go home.. Her eyelids grew heavy, and despite how she fought it, after a few more moments of deep thought, sleep claimed her.  
  
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Sorry for the long update, crew.. Been so bloody depressed. I need hugs. Give me hugs. T__T; 


	10. You Can't Trust Machines

Chapter Nine - You Can't Trust Machines  
  
A/N: Whoo..... @@; Another long update.. This is getting harder and harder... But I'm a determined bunny (don't ask), so I'll get this done EVENTUALLY! n.n; Anyways, I s'pose I should stop rambling and get on with it. Mwah. This chapter may involve..... romance? What is WRONG with me? O_o; Ahahaha...:: nervous laugh:: I'm a medicated bunny. u.u;  
  
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What must have been hours later, Lara opened her eyes, finding that her cheek was against something cold and hard. Her earlier achey body only ached more, her arms pinned beneath her. She realized that the cold and hard thing was the floor, and she wasn't too thrilled with the brightness of the ugly green tile as it reflected back at her from the glow of the flourescent lighting.  
  
Pushing herself up and onto her knees, she groaned, rather wishing she could go back to sleep. By now the smell of bodies had seeped into the room, and her stomach was already turning. Suddenly, it hit her. She whirled, nearly throwing herself off balance, and had to steady herself with a shaky hand before she fell back onto her face.   
  
Relief swept through her in a familiar pins and needles sensation, and she sighed, lifting her other hand and brushing her hair back. Subject T was still lying there, back to her, probably asleep. Lara let herself flop back onto her butt, pressing her hands onto her face and just taking a few deep breaths to calm her pounding heart. What was THAT all about? Why was she having a panic attack over the fact that she didn't see him right away?   
  
- For Chrissake, woman, this is RIDICULOUS! He's a SCIENCE project, her's not human anymore, why can't you get that through your head?! - She hissed at herself mentally, getting ready to get to her feet, when she felt rather than saw someone standing over her. Tugging her hands from her face, she lifted her eyes to settle them onto the still glossy-looking ones that belonged to her self-appointed guardian. Lara finally found the will to get to her feet, and took a little step back (since he was practically on top of her), almost tripping over both herself and the chair.   
  
"Erm.. Good morning?" she began to speak, more to comfort herself than to comfort him; or maybe just to break the painful silence. Subject T blinked, and Lara's mouth dropped open for the umpteenth time in this escapade when his hand raised in what looked like a waving motion.. - I'll be Goddamned.. -  
  
When he took another step towards her, she went rigid, arms straight at her sides. She just blinked at him, unsure of what to do. It was a little like one of those nightmares where the nasty monster's after you, and you're running away; but then you become frozen and can't run. Lara personally hoped it would be one of those nightmares where you'd wake up before the monster caught you.  
  
Subject T lifted one very dangerous looking hand, and Lara's eyes grew wide as dinnerplates. He reached out, slowly, very easily able to sense her fear, and moved his hand towards her cheek. Lara was positively aghast. Feeling the warmth against her skin for even a millisecond, she flinched. This left Subject T looking quite hurt and taken aback.   
  
He withdrew the clawed hand, lowering both it and those piercing obsidian eyes. Lara began that nervous habit of chewing on her lower lip, shifting eyes between the floor and Subject T. To anyone else, this would look like some kind of a Creature from the Black Lagoon movie poster, minus the shitty poses and the dreadful costumes. To Lara and Subject T (or hell, maybe just Lara) it felt STUPIDLY like they were a pair of teenagers on a date.  
  
It was the kind of this that made you want to go "Oi-frickin'-vei." and then slap yourself across the face with something heavy.   
  
But Lara decided that would probably be against better judgement in this situation, fingertips clashing against each other behind her back and eyes now locking onto Subject T's face. She was getting really nervous now, since he was flexing his fingers and his claws were grinding together.. Ugh. It made her shudder just to hear that noise. She wanted to glare at him to show her displeasure, but then it hit her: maybe this was HIS way of showing his displeasure. Sure, he could just rip her apart, that would be displeasure right there, but, something was stopping him.  
  
- Maybe now would be a good time to get out of here, Captain Genius.. Who knows how many of those things there could be; or if that things still in its fishtank? - she thought to herself, and nodded as closure to it. Subject T was busy staring (wait, no, GLARING) at the floor and grinding his claws, Lara's head beginning to hurt from that irritating sound. Slowly she reached out, letting fingertips touch the opposite shoulder. Now it was HIS turn to flinch as he felt her fingers upon his flesh, his eyes quickly lifting and locking onto the face he obviously cared for so much.. That look in his eyes both fascinated Lara and made her want to be sick.  
  
"We should get out of here.. We don't want that thing to wake up and find us, right?"  
  
Saying this seemed to spark something in Subject T, and he automatically turned for the door, leaving Lara smirking. Okay, that was easier than she thought it would be. The hard part would be finding another safe place once they got out of here. They needed to try and find some way to contact someone outside... Wait... What was she thinking 'they'? Subject T couldn't even talk! Then again.. She wasn't too sure she wanted to know what he'd have to say.  
  
The two started for the door, and Lara pulled it open her eyes immediately locking onto the ugly green tank that was even more so than the tile in the medical wing. Just as she'd hoped, the tentacle heavy creature was still there; although its arms had come unfolded from its chest and were floating freely like the tentacles, seemingly reaching for them. This unsettled Lara's mind even further, and she pried her gaze from the tank and set it on the other door; the grey steel barrier that they'd have to go through next.  
  
Lara reached for the handle, hoping that they'd have the same luck and it'd be unlocked like the medical wing had been. But as she rested her hand on the knob and tried to turn it, it wouldn't move. She cursed aloud, her voice echoing in the room and startling both of them. She kicked the door with one still bare foot, and cursed some more at the pain that racked her toes. This wasn't good..  
  
Then, she felt Subject T's hand on her shoulder. He gripped her tightly, and pulled her to the side, and out of the way of the door, tilting his head and obviously studying the grey slab of metal. After a few moments, he took a few long paces back, and growled, leaping forward and ramming his shoulder into the door. The hinges screamed, and the door bent under his weight, a huge dent in the shape of his body being left from where he threw himself into it.  
  
Subject T growled again, obviously not pleased that he hadn't been able to knock the door right off its hinges in the first try. So he moved back further this time, narrowing his eyes, and made a running leap for the door. Lara winced at the loud crash as Subject T went flying right THROUGH the door, crushing it beneath him and the rolling forward before finally skidding to a stop in the middle of the very narrow walkway.   
  
The handholds were bent and pushed apart because Subject T was wedged between them, his unhappy sounding growls snapping Lara out of her stupor and getting her to peer around the corner. She couldn't HELP but laugh out loud at seeing the huge being known as Subject T all tangled up in himself, her hands covering her mouth and her eyes going wide. She quickly made her way to his side, mindful of his claws, and finally managed to help him to his feet. Once they were oriented, they noticed that the mesh platform/walkway they were on was suspended some ten feet above what looked to be a lower floor.   
  
Lara leaned over, slowly, tightly gripping the side. Her eyes first locked onto a man that was slowly stumbling closer to where they were, his arms raised as high as they would go. This was made difficult to to the fact that one of them had been gnawed halfway off at the shoulder, and hung pretty loosely at his side, only able to rise a few inches. He groaned helplessly, glossy eyes unblinking. Lara shook her head in disgust, not noticing the fact that her bare toes were slightly over the side of the platform.   
  
Hearing another groan from behind her, she whirled her head around to find the source. Unfortunately for her, this threw her off balance, and she toppled backwards and then slid forward, arms groping for a handhold. She found one in the bent railing, and grabbed on for dear life, hearing her back pop and crack as she ended up bent at a funny angle and dangling over the floor.. It looked like it'd hurt if she let go, even if it wasn't that far a drop..  
  
Then she lifted her eyes from the floor and they locked onto the zombie that was wandering slowly towards her. She half gasped, half cried out in surprise, flailing her legs in an effort to swing herself up and back onto the walkway, only half hearing the groans from behind her. At this moment in time, Subject T was trying to figure out a way to pull her BACK up without accidentally skewering one of her little arms off... Couldn't have that, could he?  
  
Lara looked up, seeing that there was a higher bar that the one she was holding onto. Gripping tighter with her left hand, she kicked her legs and swung her back away from the platform. This gave her enough inertia to get her right hand on the higher bar. Quickly, she grabbed onto it with her left, feeling something brush against the fabric of her jeans. Now, she was up high enough that if she could just turn around, she could climb up..  
  
Giving a quick twist of her lower half, her legs flew out and she felt them hit something. She heard a grunt, and refused to let herself look down again, gripping to the bar as tightly as she could. She turned her hands, one at a time, her body following suit, so that now her breasts and stomach were against the lower bar and her legs were dangling down into nothingness. Grinning to herself triumphantly, she curled her stomach and pressed the soles of her feet against the side of the platform. This was too easy..  
  
She hoisted herself up, locking her eyes onto Subject T and clambered over the railing, much to the dismay of the hungry zombies below. After steadying herself, she glared knives and daggers down at the wailing zombie that she had kicked, then grimaced when she saw that she had smashed its face in, leaving a nice big bootprint right on its cheek and the left half of its face dripping blood and even little chunks of flesh.   
  
Subject T just licked his lips and growled, watching the very unhappy man stumble about, growling and trying to work his jaw. Meanwhile, Lara started down towards the end of the walkway, going very slowly so as not to end up in the same predicament again, walking towards a dimly lit black door marked "Security and Surveillance". She slid her fingertips over the words, then pressed her ear against the door to see if she could hear anything coming from inside.  
  
All she could hear was the soft thrum of what sounded like a computer. Another grin parted her lips and she turned, nearly running right into Subject T's chest. In her focus on the interior noises of the Security room, she had failed to notice that Subject T had AGAIN crept up behind her. What a surprise. Lifting her chin for no reason at all and turning back to the door, she grabbed the handle (which to her surprise was unlocked), and turned it, pushing the door open.  
  
Inside, the room was completely lit, another narrow walkway down the middle separating two rows of what appeared to be surveillance monitors. Obviously, since this WAS the surveillance room.. A few feet behind the consoles that the monitors rested on, on either side, was a row of lockers, with various nametags stuck to them. Lara began to pace up and down, reading them. Jacob Davids, Samantha Field, Tabbitha Eryinger... These must have been the security guards here. She inwardly wondered to herself why they hadn't seen anyone yet with the standard security room garb on; then realized that maybe there must be an exit down here, close to this room.  
  
This left a new hope swelling in her chest, and she turned to the other side of the room, towards a safe in the corner. It was pretty tall, maybe to her chest, and a faded label across the top read "WEAPONS LOCKER". She reached down, trying to pry it open with her bare hands, quite unhappy to find that it was sealed shut. All the while, Subject T was staring, positively fascinated by the left set of monitors. He could see things moving on them! He couldn't HEAR anything, and he couldn't see much color, but they were still MOVING... It was like magic to him. [A/N: Eheh... I'm a moron. ]  
  
Mumbling curses at the safe, Lara got to her feet, dragging herself over to where Subject T stood, practically drooling over the monitors. She ran her eyes over the ones he was watching, seeing a woman nearly covered from head to toe with blood stumbling about, running into tables in the cafeteria where she had been only a bit ago. A glance to the lower left hand corner of each screen showed that the time was a little after eight P.M. on December 28th... Jesus, had it really been THAT long since this whole mess had started? Just as she asked herself this question, that same woman tripped over a fellow co-worker and fell to her face with an unhappy groan. But of course, as soon as she hit the floor and smelled the blood, she began to feast.  
  
"Heh.. Poor bastards. They never even had a chance. "  
  
- But I got lucky. - A smirk forced itself across her face, and she folded her arms over her chest. Subject T finally pried himself away from the monitors to watch his mate's careful scrutiny of the goings on of the second floor, allowing his arms to go slack at his sides and his head to tilt slightly. Lara stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye, and raised a brow at the almost sultry look he was giving her. It was a little unsettling to have ANYONE look at you with that kind of gleam in their eye, let alone some seven foot tall bladed monster..  
  
To try and rid herself of the returning sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Lara turned to the second set of monitors, a set of five, a label upon the middle one reading "Restricted Area". These monitors showed up in, rather than the faded color, a fuzzy black and white that every few moments would twitch or roll and even go blank; only to come back on. But there was no motion in these, only cages with animals that Lara assumed were sleeping, and some unidentifiable creatures that must be resting, for their eyes were open and they were staring and the cameras unblinking.  
  
One of the monitors showed that tank with the ugly tentacle-laden creature encased within the green goo, arms once again mysteriously wrapped around itself. And the tentacles were tucked tightly against its back, too.. What, did this thing go through some kind of a rotation?  
  
Just then, there came a nice little scratching-type noise at the door. Slowly, Lara pulled her gaze from the monitors. Subject T was already in pounce mode, hunkering down and baring those wicked-looking teeth of his. The scratching noise grew louder, and more persistent, until finally it turned to banging. Unable to see what the hell was making the noise, Lara slowly scooted towards the door, looking for anything that might let her see through to the other side. Then, success. A keyhole. Small, but wide enough that if she knelt, she might be able to see what was trying to beat the hell out of the door.  
  
As she cautiously knelt, breath caught in her chest, small dents began to appear in the door as whatever it was began to bang harder. Silently she willed it to go away, but to no avail. The sound of the beating was almost painfully loud now, echoing in the little room and drowning out even Subject T's ferocious growls. Taking a deep breath, Lara thrust her head forward to peer through the keyhole.  
  
The nasty green goo dripped from every inch of its slimy grey body as it thrust both of those tri-digit hands against the barrier that separated it from its next meal. As though held up by wires, tentacles waved out behind it, whipped about as though being tossed by gale force winds; and those pure crimson eyes were NOT very happy looking.  
  
It was all Lara could do not to throw up from the putrid smell that forced itself into her nostrils as she stared in blatant disbelief at the ugly, discolored menace that was steadily breaking down the door before her. Quickly, she jumped to her feet and scrambled back to the right set of monitors, searching for a moment before staring blankly at the lower right hand corner of the screen.  
  
The numbers read 6:52 A.M. The date: December 27th. A low groan of realization spilled from Lara's lips as the whole thing clicked in her mind.  
  
The monitors had frozen the day before.  
  
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Yeah, what with the lockdown, some machines stopped, some didn't. Ooh, scary. :O Anyways, Sorry for the long update. x_x; 


	11. Familiar Faces

Chapter Ten: Familiar Faces  
  
Oi... Like I said, more and more difficult.(My comp crashed TWICE. Lost EVERYTHING. ) But I'm trying! Pleeaaaase don't give up on me! ;.;! So anyways... Last we saw of our heroine and... er... hero (?) they found that the surveillance monitors had frozen. Oh my. o_o; And of course, that ugly tentacle thingy was trying to stuff its slimy arse through the door. :: Back of hand to forehead. ::   
  
What EVER will they DO?? e_e; I'm an idiot.   
  
** text here ** is for flashbacks, okay? :D  
  
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"Son of a BITCH!"  
  
Pounding a fist aginst the side of one of the monitors, she momentarily found herself pleased when the screen hummed and flickered, picture dying out and darkening before snapping back into focus. Subject T made a hissing noise or two at the door, head lowered between his shoulders as he stared fixedly at the steadily inward bending door.  
  
Deciding that she could take time to curse fate or bad luck or whatever later, Lara turned on her heel and stomped towards the still sealed weapons locker. Glaring at it defiantly, not to be thrown off by the simple fact that it was locked, she searched around her for a means of breaking the lock off the door. Finding nothing that wasn't securely bolted down, Lara swung her foot at the nearest locker to her, pleased at the slight groan it gave; irritated at the throb of pain that swelled in her toes.  
  
Subject T turned to face her, hearing the door giving its final screams as it began to tear from its hinges due to the force of the creature ramming into it from the opposite side. Lara just stared back at him helplessly, arms held out wide in a silent question as to what the hell she should do. Subject T's deep coal eyes just stared back at her, glittering in the light as he slowly turned back to the door and readied himself for the moment when the door would finally give way.  
  
With a crunch and a snap, the door was flat on the ground, held firmly against the cold stone earth by the still dripping creature that now stood upon it. An ominous shadow overtook the middle of the room as a frame of light surrounded the glistening being in all its slimy, toothed, and appendaged glory. Lara's eyes slowly grew wider as the creature took a few steps into the room, the strong scent of its green coating forcing Subject T back a few feet. Sniffing lightly at the air and blinking two sets of eyelids, a deep growl rumbled in its throat as it turned glittering crimson orbs upon Lara and waved a trio of tentacles at her.  
  
Subject T returned the growl, stepping to the side in an attempt to block the thing's view of his mate, hissing and baring his teeth. Lara unconsciously took a couple of steps up behind him, arms straight out and fists clenched at her sides. They had run out of time; there was nothing they could do now. They.. no, Subject T would have to fight, there was no other option.   
  
Seemingly picking up on her thought, Subject T took a step closer to the writhing mass of tentacles, clicking his claws in an unspoken challenge. His head lowered between his shoulders and he swiped a claw at a waving length of grey skin. The steel-like claw sunk into dripping flesh, earning an enraged cry from the creature. It lunged forward at Subject T, who couldn't move fast enough because of the still aching wound in his stomach.   
  
Both ended up flat on the floor, Subject T pinning the tentacled thing to the cement. He dragged his claws across the oozing chest of the thing, feeling its tri-digit hands try and shove him off and a tentacle wrap around his throat. Deciding that he'd had enough, he rammed a fist right into the creature's chest, a little spray of bluish-black blood coating one side of his face and earning a sweep of his tongue over his lips.  
  
After ripping perhaps three inches into the creature's body, Subject T's claws simply stopped. As if they had run into some impenetrable substance, he could force them in no further, a look of humanesque confusion coming across his face. He tried again as the tentacle tightened slowly around his throat, tiny hairs upon it sinking into his own flesh, but to no avail. Lara watched, dumbstuck from behind a row of monitors. 'What the hell?! He just slammed his hand into that thing! Why didn't it go any further?!'   
  
As his windpipe was slowly squeezed closed, Subject T made an attempt to slice away at the offending tentacle; only to have his other hand snatched at by another of the muculent appendages. Trying hard as his vision began to blur to free his other hand from the thing's chest, Subject T snarled at the army of gnashing teeth that were slowly approaching his face.   
  
Lara decided that she'd watched long enough, grabbing a pen that was lying next to one of the monitors and slowly scooting towards the dueling monsters. Grimacing as a set of tentacles slid across the floor in an attempt to reach for her, she jumped into the air and let her weight crush them, and in one more quick motion bending down and slamming the pen into the tentacle that held Subject T's hand.   
  
Ending up on her butt on the floor, she scrambled backwards away from Subject T's momentarily free set of claws, backing herself into a cabinet. Subject T, rather than taking the time to give her an appreciative glance, quickly sliced the tentacle that held his throat; more of the odd smelling and discolored blood oozing onto him, the thing, and the floor. The creature whipped the tentacle back, splattering Lara with its blood, mouth opening wide in a near deafening scream.   
  
Finally getting his other hand free, Subject T prepared to remove the creature's head. His eyes glittered like that of a cold-blooded killer as he swung a hand right for the exposed neck of the thing, Lara closing her eyes tightly and turning her head away.   
  
What happened next seemed in slow motion to Subject T: The creature used two more of its tentacles to yank Subject T's arms away from anywhere near its foul-smelling body, reeling back and flinging him out into the hallway from whence they had just come. Tumbling head over heels and landing in a screeching and bleeding heap, Subject T struggled to rise, only stopped by the sound of another human voice from behind him.  
  
"Don't fucking move. "  
  
Lara, still out of sight, grew wide eyed and resisted the urge to run towards the other human voice, for just as she rose, the ricochet of bullets echoed into the tiny room. Instinctively covering her ears and shrinking back, she watched the tentacle creature lie low on its belly like an animal about to leap, staring out the door at whomever was in the hallway. Lara didn't know if the person, who she'd decided was male because of the deep voice, had fired upon Subject T, the creature, or perhaps emptied a few rounds into both. But, after a moment of squinting and studying the scarred grey flesh of the hissing and snarling beast, she took note of three oozing bullet holes in its back.  
  
Subject T, who'd gotten to his feet by now and was staring down the considerably shorter man before him and momentarily forgetting the alternative threat, hissed under his breath. This man seemed irritatingly familiar with his brown and grey streaked hair and oceanic eyes, which bored into him with a brand of condescending arrogance that left him wanting to swipe his claws. Before he got the chance to do so, though, another spiked tentacle latched onto his ankle and the creature yanked him onto his back.  
  
Giving a cry, so she'd be acknowledged by the man and so she might distract the creature long enough so Subject T could free himself, Lara shifted uncomfortably. 'Please please please don't let him die now.. Don't let this guy shoot him..!' Her mind racing, she stared in revered silence at the battling creatures.  
  
The man hesitated upon hearing the woman's cry, stone cold exterior faltering for a moment and gun clutched in sweaty fingers lowering slightly. 'No, can't back down now. I have to terminate the project. '  
  
Aiming and firing twice, he blasted away the offending tentacle that gripped tightly at Subject T's ankle, blood spraying the ugly floor, as well as the further disgusting creature. It let out an ear-piercing cry of pain, clawing at the groung with its tri-digit hands and glaring at the newcomer that dared try to interfere with its meal. Subject T, on the other hand, took the opportunity gratefully, leaning over quickly and raking knifelike claws over the thing's face and neck.  
  
Discolored blood pooling on the floor, the creature looked from the man with the gun, to the clawed being, then to a low hanging pipe above him. Yowling dangerously, it reached up quickly with several tentacles and pulled itself to the ceiling, and began working its way away from the two. Crouching and squinting, the man snorted, the putrid smell of the creature causing him to gag. Ignoring the bile rising in his throat, he fired twice at the agile being as it clambered along the pipes and into darkness, and finally out of range of shot.  
  
Debating upon whether or not he should go after, Subject T huffed angrily, staring down the hallway from whence they had come and clicking his claws. Lara peered arund the corner timidly, finding herself staring at both the backsides of the older man and Subject T, neither of them sounding too happy. Cursing under his breath, the man turned to face Subject T slowly, pointing his gun at the obsidian eyed creature.  
  
Lara gasped unconsciously, and before she knew what her body was doing, she had thrown herself upon the man, pinning his hands to the floor and distantly hearing a shot firing into the ominous darkness. Somewhere, a pitiful moan rose, echoed for a moment, and died away. The man below Lara cursed some more, trying to shove her off. In one quick motion, she somehow managed to wrench the gun from him and point it at his head. Blood punding in her temples, she throatily demanded, "Who the hell are you?!"  
  
Finally stopping his cursing rant, the man lay still glaring knives and daggers at her. In the back of his mind he wondered why in God's name she had spared the monstrous creature's life, and had he been more a Christian man, he might have crossed himself. Keeping silent as he studied the young woman's paled face, he could tell she'd been through hell. He'd found food and supplies, it seemed she hadn't been quite so lucky. Though, he faintly recalled her wearing something else the previous night. It was all too much to remember, just then. Dark circles had formed under her eyes, and she looked like she desperately needed a decent amount of sleep, but her cerulean eyes pierced his own, probing for information that she couldn't possibly find.   
  
"Who wants to know?" He asked innocently, softly enough that she had to lean in slightly. She WAS, after all, crushing his ribcage. His body wasn't what it used to be, although he was only fourty-nine. Lara shifted a little, so she was kneeling next to him, but kept the gun leveled right between his eyes, Subject T merely watching whilst continuously clicking his intimidatingly sharp claws.  
  
"Lara Danielson. I work here," and after a moment, she softly murmured, " ...or at least I used to... I don't know what'll happen now.. Now, who're you?!" Brow furrowing, she squeezed her hand on the trigger as if to scare him. Giving a little smirk, the man, with what was an almost inhuman speed, swiped with his left hand and grabbed at a pressure point in her neck. Mouth opening in an 'O' of shock and pain, Lara's hand involuntarily opened, the gun falling into his waiting right hand. After his finger was safely upon the trigger and he had fired a warning shot to back the fuming Subject T off, he released Lara, watching her rub her neck.  
  
Sliding the gun back into the holster on his leg and folding his arms over his slightly blood-spattered black sweater, he smirked and replied to the hanging question, "Richard Ashford. I run this branch of the Coorporation. Pleased to make your... acquaintance. "  
  
The name ringing in Subject T's head over and over, it struck some kind of a chord within his mind. Flashbacks began to play, brief and unclear, as well as painfully repetitive.  
  
** "A test? "   
  
  
  
~ That's MY voice.. ~  
  
  
  
"Yes, you'll just let us do a few.... choice experiments upon you, and you won't have to worry about any of those problems anymore. We'll help you forget. I can make it go away, if you assist me with this. "  
  
  
  
Those sly blue eyes. Pearly white teeth. Persuasive voice.  
  
"..Can I think about it? "   
  
~ He wanted to force me into it then and there. ~  
  
Eyes wavered to annoyance, then back to overflowing glee.  
  
"But of course! Come back anytime, they'll know who you are at the front desk. They'll send you right to me. "  
  
~ He knew he had me right from the start. ~  
  
"And your name again, sir? "  
  
~ It's him it has to be it's got to be him I'll kill him ~  
  
"Richard Ashford. Don't hesitate to call. "   
  
Slipped over a business card, sly as can be.**  
  
Snorting, Subject T shook his head from side to side, trying to focus on the two before him, who were discussing where they'd go next. The man kept giving him sidelong glances, a devilish gleam in his eyes and his hand always close to his gun. Growling, Subject T averted his gaze, another flash coming into his mind; this one longer and more detailed.  
  
**   
  
"Doctor, are you sure this is right? This is twice the normal dose to start with!"   
  
Head swimming, Thomas DeSalvo groggily rolled his head to the left to stare half-focusedly at a nurse who was arguing over the phone with someone. Obviously her superior, because even from here he could hear her being screamed at. Slamming the phone down, she turned her head sharply as the door opened and three men strode in, each in a crisp white labcoat.  
  
"We'll take it from here, Miss Sanders. That's all. ....Why is he awake?!"  
  
Glancing to the groaning man on the table and gasping, the girl held her hands over her mouth. Nearly melting from terror under the icy stare of the group of white-clad men, she decided it'd be best to turn heel and break for the door, nearly knocking over a small surgical table in her wake. As the door closed after the easily shaken nurse, one of the men sighed and rubbed at his temples.  
  
"Dammit, it's hard to find good help. We'll just have to do it like this, I suppose. "  
  
Blurred gaze landed upon the owner of the familiar voice. Doctor Ashford! Trying to mouth something, he found his tongue to be too dry for him to speak. Giving up quickly, he closed his eyes and lay back, falling into unconsciousness.  
  
Being rudely awakened by the harsh jabbing of a very thick needle into his arm, he found himself strapped down by thick restraints. Opening his eyes and relasing a pained cry, he thrashed as his body lit on fire, veins filling with acid as the green liquid entered his system. All he could do now was scream, until finally his body gave out into unconsciousness again. **  
  
Turning his head once more to stare menacingly at Ashford, Subject T hissed. Lara turned to look at him, and got up, tilting her head at him as though he were a small animal.   
  
"What's wrong? You act as though you two know each other..." Letting her sentence hang, she let here gaze waver between the two, Ashford shaking his head.  
  
"No, I don't believe so. But, I do believe it'd be wise to get out of here. Soon. Listen. "  
  
Subject T ceasing his own version of a rant, silence stung their ears for a moment. A distant chorus of hissing noises rung through the pipes overhead, traveling to them until it was clear.  
  
"Oh, hell.... "  
  
"Cerberus-X, they're called. Not fun to play with. Let's get the hell out of here, shall we?"  
  
"Let's shall."  
  
And so they ran, backtracking for the opposite door.  
  
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FUCK YEAH! I wrote like..... 3/4 of this chapter in ONE DAY! Because I WANTED TO! 9/10/03! YAY! GO ME..... I hope you don't hate me. ;;-;; Flame for lateness, or praise for goodness. Or flame for badness... I dunno, do whatever. ^_^ Please ignore my typos. PLEASE REVIEW! I LOVE YOU AND I'LL GIVE YOU COOKIES.... or, I won't update again until I get me some good reviews. ^_^ Ja ne! 


	12. No Escape From Reality

Chapter 11: No Escape From Reality  
  
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Across the mesh bridge, through the door, and past the tank they ran, Subject T in the lead. Not too far behind was Richard, followed by Lara, careful of her bare feet. Remembering the horde of undead that had been waiting for them outside the main door the the circular room, Lara skidded to a stop as Richard prepared to push the door open. Subject T craned his neck to stare impatiently at her, his toenails clicking against the floor faintly.   
  
Richard snapped his head around, fingers wrapped around the handle. He seemed a bit puzzled as his icy stare locked onto her face, as he saw the uneasiness that set in her features, and as he followed her nervous gaze to the door.  
  
"What the hell are you waiting for?! Don't just stare like a dead fish, let's get the fuck out of here!"  
  
As much as he disliked cursing, when the time called for it, he'd do it. Finding himself pleased as she flinched due to his sharp tone, she responded quickly, "What about the..zombies? There were dozens of them out there not three hours ago!"  
  
Chuckling a little, as though proud of himself for something, the cerulean-eyed man eyed her in the same condescending manner he'd used upon Subject T. It made her feel like a child all over again, and she resisted the urge to fidget, staring up into his face with defiance.  
  
"See for yourself, my dear." He pushed open the heavy door easily, holding it and smirking at her tauntingly. Taking a half step forward, and then thinking better of it, Lara cocked her head and listened. There was nothing. No hissing, no moaning, no nothing. After a moment, she stepped forward and out of the room, followed right after by an irritated Subject T, the sudden smell of blood driving him mad inside.  
  
Tiptoeing out to the end of the next four-way hall, Lara took a deep breath, and slowly leaned forward, preparing herself for what she might see around the corner. Slowly, gripping the wall, she leaned in, when a hand grabbed her shoulder. Jumping and cursing loudly, she turned and drew her nails across Richard Ashford's left cheek, cutting off his laughter instantly.   
  
Grabbing Lara's wrists, he shoved her roughly into the wall, holding her arms above her head in a painful grip with one hand and his gun, which had magically emerged from its holster, against her throat. Pressing his face in, inches from hers, he stared coldly into her eyes, growling at her.  
  
"That was perhaps the boldest move anyone has ever made upon me. Congratulations. Now, let me show you what'll happen if you try it again." An insane little grin parted his lips, eyes glittering dangerously. Releasing her arms and grabbing her shoulders, he spun her to the left and pushed her into the hallway, ramming the gun into the small of her back.  
  
What Lara saw made the bile rise in her throat all over again, and it was all she could do to not be sick and pass out all at the same time. There, in a pile in the very center of the hallway, were perhaps fifteen decaying bodies. Some wore labcoats, and as Lara looked closer, one that was buried partway under the reeking heap was wearing a security guard's uniform. Extending perhaps two feet around on either side of the mass of half eaten bodies was a thick pool of blood, and from somewhere flies had begun to draw, landing here and there upon various people. One man's head was tilted back and staring right at her, paled to disgusting proportions and smeared with blood. There were two bullets holes in either side of his forehead, and he, along with the others, lay unmoving, not exempt from a twitch or two occasionally.  
  
From a few places, there were limbs hanging out; an arm with a large chunk of flesh torn clean out of it, a leg nearly ripped completely off, and there were even a few headless bodies. The combination of sight, scent, and the sound of the hungrily buzzing flies made Lara sink to her knees, the unwavering gaze of the dead man chilling her to the bone. 'S..so that's where they went..' She thought to herself, and let out a high-pitched, nervous laugh. Behind her, she heard Subject T hiss and snort as he tossed his head, growling at the mass of decomposing flesh.  
  
"You're SICK... You're just fucking SICK.." Lara's voice wavered and faltered as she turned her head to stare with wide eyes, filled to the brim with tears, at the brown haired man who was trying so hard not to laugh at the priceless expression on her face. He strode towards her, and leaned over her, running his fingers through her hair.  
  
"Indeed, I am. Deal with it." With the last syllable, he grabbed her hair and yanked her to her feet, grinning at the little cry of pain that echoed through the hallway and broke the momentary silence. Preparing to shove her forward, he was halted by something very cold and very sharp against his throat. Swallowing hard, but refusing to show any other sign of the nervousness and fear that swelled in his loins like fire, he released Lara's hair and watched her turn to face him. She glared at him, then gave Subject T an apologetic glance.  
  
Subject T growled into Richard's neck, desparately wanting to drag his claws across the pale and aging skin that covered his bones. Looking between Richard and Lara; the slight shake beneath his claws and the frightened blue eyes a few feet away, he decided to withdraw, pulling his arm back and hissing at the man.  
  
Turning and smirking, attitude ever-present, Richard sighed and shrugged.   
  
"Touche, my large and ugly friend. " Putting emphasis on the 'ugly', he turned back to Lara and smiled warmly. Finding himself a little shocked at the cold stare that awaited him, he smirked and brushed past her, making his way through the thick accumulation of blood and sashaying around the pile of bodies easily. Lara glanced at Subject T warily, and jogged after.  
  
Snorting and galloping after Lara, Subject T glared knives and daggers at Ashford's back. The man could feel eyes upon him, yes, and it made him nervous all over again, fingertips brushing against his weapon as if to comfort him. It didn't really help, though, and he tried his best not to glance over his shoulder to be totally sure that Subject T wasn't sneaking up behind him like some kind of an animal coming in for the kill.   
  
As they continued down the hallway, Richard kep his ears and eyes open to everything, the slightest noise catching his attention and his head cocking a bit to the left when another sharp hissing sound drifted down the corridor to them. Stopping midstride and turning his head to look down another of the eerily dim hallways, he squinted and yanked his gun free of its holster. Lara stopped, eyes growing a little wider, and held very still, waiting for the slightest sign of oncoming danger. Subject T even took the hint and became silent, his eyes narrowed.  
  
When nothing came down the hallway, and no more sound was heard, Richard sighed deeply. Glancing back at the still very pale girl behind him, he studied her for a moment before turning to the left and selecting a brisk pace. expecting her to follow, as well as keep up, he did not look back. Lara glared at his back, irritated at the man that had come from seemingly nowhere. Jogging a little to catch up with him, she mumbled something under her breath, seeing his eyes gleam as they passed under another fluorescent light. Subject T lumbered after at his own pace, growling under his breath and being rather unhappy about the rising tension in the newly formed group.  
  
Glancing at Lara, Richard sighed once more, and began to speak with eyes locked onto the next door he had decided upon.  
  
"You know, if I hadn't killed those people, I'd be dead, he'd," he jerked a thumb at Subject T, and continued, "be dead, and then you'd be dead. So, I think you owe me a 'thank you', rather than a big 'fuck you'. So, pull the bloody stick out of your little ass and get with the program. Everything you're used to is no more. All I want is to get out of here, and as far as I can tell, you're thinking the same thing. Am I right?"  
  
Lara blinked in surprise at this sudden change in tone from him, his voice less agressive this time. When he looked over at her, she nodded sullenly, lowering her gaze. He reached out and rested his hand on the doorknob, grinning and slowly pushing it halfway open.  
  
"Good, good. We should be okay in here, we can get you some food and wa-"  
  
He was immediately interrupted by a close-up hissing sound, and as he jumped back from the door, it slowly swayed open on its own. Crouched in the middle of the green-tiled room much like the one they'd been in earlier was a skinless creature, teeth much like those described in prehistoric stories of sabertooth cats. They were wickedly curved, and several inches long, each covered in fresh blood from what must have been the shredded corpse lying in one corner. The thing looked much like a big cat, perhaps a tiger or lion, inflamed muscle tissue gleaming wetly and dripping with some unknown substance as it stared them down. Deep amber eyes bored into Lara's, immediately reminding her of a tiger's eye stone, and they glittered hungrily.  
  
The rotting feline dragged an overly long tongue across no longer existent lips, taking a couple of steps closer and growling menacingly at the intruders. Lara unconsciously whimpered, and Richard mumbled something she couldn't understand, slowly raising the gun to aim at the animal's head.  
  
As he moved, the feline's gaze darted to Richard, and it yowled angrily. Shifting it's poison glare between the three that dared interrupt its meal, the large cat thought for a moment before crouching close to the ground, staring deep into Richard's eyes. Lara slowly turned her head to stare at Ashford, in shock that he hadn't blasted the hell out of the thing yet.  
  
"W-what the fuck are you doing?" She whispered in a strained voice, too afraid to reach out for him and shake him out of his daze. When he didn't respond, she hissed at him again.  
  
"Come on! Kill the fucking thing! ...Please, come on come on come on! Snap out of it!"  
  
Richard was trapped, though, eyes locked onto the entrancing orbs of the dead creature. Unconsciously, he swallowed hard, and shook his head roughly, unable to avert his gaze.  
  
At this sudden movement, the feline hissed, and crouched lower, using muscles of liquid steel to launch itself through the air at the paralyzed Ashford. He could only stare helplessly, gun clutched close to his chest as the cat came flying toward him; claws unsheathed, ready to spill fresh blood.  
  
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Ooh, cliffhanger. Review, and you'll get more. Mwahahaha!! I love you guys for reviewing! When I get to 200 (if, I suppose) I'll do a special or something, I'unno. We'll see about it when it gets to it! 


	13. Truth Be Told

Chapter Twelve: Truth Be Told..  
  
A/N: Holy shit! It's been a little over a year since I started this baby, and its popularity has soared! This is, of course, only thanks to those loyal readers and reviewers, so, thanks for everything! ^-^  
  
Beware of character backgrounds, lol. I think I needed to add some more detail to our little friends, so, here ya go.  
  
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As the cat flew through the air towards Richard, time seemed to slow to a dull crawl. His eyes were so wide they nearly bulged out of their sockets, yet he merely stood ramrod-straight, unmoving. Faintly, he heard Lara cry out his name in terror, but made no move to acknowledge it as his attacker closed the distance between them. Eyes still locked onto his own, the cat uttered a fierce yowl of challenge. Now only a few inches from Richard's delicious-looking face, the frenzied feline bared its lethal fangs for the kill.  
  
All of the sudden, though, the animal was knocked directly out of its path by a large blur of brown and tan. It roughly flew sideways into the nearest wall, making a sickening thud as it hit, and once and for all disproving the theory that cats always land on their feet. The thud acoompanied by the sickening wet crunch of bone, the beast snarled and yowled pitifully, writhing about on the ground. Subject T straightened, momentarily looking somehow proud of himself. After a moment or two of listening to the downed and officially helpless creature's wails, Subject T warily stepped forward, shadowy eyes cold and unmerciful.  
  
With one swift swipe of his claws, the cat's head was separated from its broken body, and after a drawn-out series of convulsions, it lay still. Blood slowly began to blossom out from the serrated mass of bone and tendon that once held the head upon the rest, oozing around Subject T's feet in a course through the cracks in the tile. Slowly turning to face the other two, Subject T snorted and swiped his hand again to rid his hand of the balmy fluid, pleased with the fresh speckles of blood that appeared upon the wall and floor.  
  
Richard was on his knees, staring openmouthed at the deceased thing, eyes as wide as dinnerplates. Lara was covering her mouth with one trembling hand, white as a sheet and looking as though she were about to vomit. Mumbling incoherently under his breath, Richard buried his face in his sweaty palms and took a series of deep breaths, trying to will himself to his feet. Subject T observed silently from his position several feet away, looking rather confused. Why did he look so damned upset?! If it hadn't been for quick reflexes, that bastard would be in several pieces on the floor!  
  
Hissing faintly and stepping forward a few paces, Subject T found himself satisfied when Richard jerked his head to look in the direction of the sudden sound. The man's eyes bore into his face with what appeared to be nothing but the purest and most unyielding hatred, almost as if he were trying to melt him with simply a stare. One hand was clenched into a fist so tightly that his knuckles were almost pure white, the other holding the gun with the same breed of death grip. To put it simply, he looked almost the polor opposite of the cool, calm, and collected 'leader' he had been not five minutes ago. Now, he was reduced to a shaking mass of fear and burning emotion, the source which remained a mystery to both Lara and Subject T as they stared him into the ground.  
  
After another solid fifty-seven seconds of trying to kill Subject T with his piercing eyes, Richard swallowed dryly and pushed himself to his knees. Lara made as if to help him up, but he waved her off angrily, keeping his face turned away form them both.  
  
Turning for the door, Richard grabbed the stunned Lara's arm and pulled her out and back into the hallway, followed immediately after by an irritated Subject T. Going to the left and down and previously unexplored hallway, Richard seemed to forget all about the vicegrip he had upon Lara's forearm and continued to drag her down the hall, his thoughts swirling about within his mind and dizzying him to the point where he stumbled once or twice.  
  
Lara, wincing and trying to wrench her arm free, looked back to Subject T for help. Subject T immediately took charge, stomping up behind Richard and easily plucking him off of Lara and several feet into the air with one clawed hand. Richard strugged viciously, now taking the time to utter a rather profuse string of curses, his voice making a swift crescendo into an unmistakably pained wail.  
  
Lara, having scooted away and was currently giving the pair the old 'fish face', watched in almost pity for the raving man, his face nothing short of beet red and his eyes straining for release from their sockets. He swung his fists blindly, growling and snarling to be released 'immediately', yet Subject T merely held him three or so feet off the ground, staring blankly at the confused Lara.  
  
After another good three minutes of enraged bellowing, Richard's profanity tapered off into gasping for breath, and after that, he fell silent, simply hanging by the back of his shirt and staring at the ground through tear-filled eyes. Lara, who had stood there helplessly and silently the whole time for lack of a way to help, slowly inched forward, motioning for Subject T to gently release the man.  
  
When Subject T set Richard back on his feet, the man crumpled and dropped instantly to his knees. Scrambling to get to his side, Lara finally found her voice and spoke softly.  
  
"Are.... you alright? What was that all about..?"  
  
Okay, so perhaps it wasn't the most intelligent way to tiptoe around her still furious superior, but her words seemed to have some effect as Richard reached up and ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to further calm himself. Subject T kept his distance, making a wary glance or two down both ominous-looking sections of hallway.  
  
Pausing briefly before visibly straightening, Richard slowly cast a cold gaze upon Lara. He wondered whether it would be wise to even mention the shadowed reason for his unprofessional outburst, clenching his hands into fists and mentally cursing himself for his own blatant stupidity. Slowly, he wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, before realizing that he'd dropped his gun a few yards down the hall. Subject T followed his gaze to the discarded metal piece, and snorted, wondering whether or not he should crush it beneath one clawed foot.  
  
After another moment of pondering to himself, Richard decided that, since it was doubtful they'd actually SURVIVE this ordeal, what harm could it possibly do to tell them? Lifting his head and sighing, he opened his mouth and let it hang that way, searching for the right place to start.  
  
"Do forgive my sudden lapse in good judgement... " This sounded rather sardonic, and right after he realized how off his tone was, he mumbled more self-damaging words. After a drawn-out period of silence, he continued slowly.  
  
"I suppose... I should start at the beginning. You see, my brother, Alexander, and I started several research centers, much like this one, several years before the American market turned into such a merchandise whore. Now, it's all about making the masses happy and filling our wallets." Shaking his head in disappointment, he glanced up at Lara, who still looked utterly confused. Inhaling deeply and smirking, he spoke again.  
  
"At the time, test subjects," he gave a sharp glance to Subject T, who flinched at the words, "were so much more difficult to acquire because people cared much less about money and more about their own welfare. What a dramatic change in society, eh?" Snorting a little at the absurdity of it, Lara shook her head and let herself fall back into a cross-legged position.  
  
"I'm guessing you never knew I had a son, did you..? No, of course not. His name was Michael. Michael Richard Ashford. He was supposed to be the one who took over my companies, my EVERYTHING, really, when I either grew tired of constantly lying to the public or I gave in and died. At the time of this agreement with several lawyers, we were in a discreet statewide search for willing test subjects.  
  
This was about.... six and a half years ago. Michael, always so eager to please his father, immediately volunteered upon hearing word of the project. I, trying to think sensibly if only for once in my life, refused avidly. But, he managed to talk me into testing a new virus sample directly upon him, swearing to me he would be fine, that it could be reversed. "  
  
With the last few words, Richard's voice broke and he slammed one sweaty fist into the ground, hiding his face from the shocked Lara's view.  
  
"What happened to him, though? If you went through with the experiments, shouldn't he have-"  
  
"Mutated. Yes, he did. He was the unique one, though. Since this was a prototype of the X-Virus, it involved a highly unstable mixture of chemicals. His body began to change almost immediately, though not dramatically. There was a great deal of pain involved in this, and the only way to numb it at all was to up the dosage of X-Virus infusions. After perhaps a month, he began to mutate uncontrollably, taking on a...a... catlike form. This was about the time he stopped responding to anything remotely familiar to him. I went to visit him in the treatment center, and...." Richard's voice cracked again, his eyes welling up with a fesh set of burning tears.  
  
Lara was staring wide eyed at him, curiosity burning her mind to the point where her next word was unconsciously spoken.  
  
"....And...?!"  
  
Richard looked up at her, catching her eyes with his own. Resuming speaking, he made quite sure he put empshasis on every last word.  
  
"I opened the door, eager to see how my son was doing. The first thing I heard was deafening screaming, coming from one corner of the room. In that corner was one of the attendants, his left arm ripped clean off. Blood was just... gushing... from him, and he just looked at me through the most frightened eyes I have ever seen, and screamed. He screamed until my son finished with the other attendant and ripped his throat open with his lovely new set of claws. Then, my son turned to me and made this awful, pained noise, and I realized that I was a MONSTER for what I had done. And I knew that whatever that thing was, it was no longer my son."  
  
Lara found herself unable to speak, her imagination running wild and tossing all sorts of stomach-turning images at her. Richard, seeing that his words had hit home, slowly turned his head to look at the still wide open door of the room, staring at the visible splatters of blood and being grateful he could not see the headless creature.  
  
"I guess... he must have escaped.. when Subject T was destroying things in Lab 5..." Lara offered dumbly, wringing her hands in her lap and wishing she could think of some way to comfort the broken man, watching tears run down his face unnoticed.  
  
"I..I suppose I should be thanking you. " He rose, slowly and shakily, to stare at Subject T, who gave him a look of pure human confusion.  
  
"I couldn't bring myself to terminate him when I had the chance. Not six years ago, and obviously not now. If... if not for you, we'd be dead now." Having shoved his pride aside to say such, Richard lowered his head and swallowed hard.  
  
Subject T made no motion at all, simply stared silently at Richard. Feeling his inner anger slowly begin to subside, he found it being replaced with pity. Lara pushed herself to her feet and gnawed on her lower lip silently, allowing Richard time to regain himself.  
  
The gracious moment of silence was interrupted by another distant hissing sound, once more coming from overhead in the pipes. All three heads snapping up and in the direction from whence it came, they made a decision as group without saying a word.  
  
The first to move was Richard, walking a few paces back to grab his gun before continuing down the hallway. Lara jogged after him, and Subject T, as always, followed close behind.  
  
"If we can make it safely to the next staircase, we can get downstairs and get food, water, and a lockable room to take a break in. " Richard spoke to them without looking, keeping up his prior brisk pace and stomping down his emotions.  
  
'Take a break in? Jesus, he makes it sound so... casual..' Lara thought to herself, for some reason annoyed by the comment, but said nothing.  
  
When they heard a sudden chorus of moans from the hallway behind them, they somehow found the motivation to run, turning left at the next hallway. After what seemed like a painfully short time of running, all but Subject T's muscles were screaming for them to stop, and for a moment, they almost did. Instinctively, Richard looked back over his shoulder.  
  
Stumbling around the corner behind them was a horde of perhaps nine deceased Umbrella workers, mouths hanging open and eyes glossy. Almost tripping because he wasn't paying attention, Richard felt his stomach turn at the appearance of one man, part of his throat torn open, and what seemed to be dozens of chunks of flesh and clothing missing from his body. The entire group left a hude trail of blood behind them, their pace slow enough for the slightest bit of comfort.  
  
"Whatever you do, don't look back!" Richard shouted, whipping his head to look in front of him once more. He panted now, his heart pounding in his chest, and he was quite sure that the young woman was feeling about the same. Luckily, though, she took his advice, keeping her eyes trained on the staircase that was steadily coming up before them.  
  
Finally, they reached it, and with little to no hesitation, dashed down into the darkness.  
  
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W00T! YEAH! :: Does the update dance. ::  
  
Well, if you liked it, review. If you DIDN'T like it, review. ....I have cooookieess.... 


	14. Gone With the Wind

Chapter Thirteen: Gone With the Wind  
  
Wow... I have to thank you guys for this. Loyal reviewers are what keeps this story going, and I must express my supreme gratitude for that. On with the story, woohoo! This may end up just being a filler chapter.. depends on where my mind goes.  
  
Please pardon my typos.  
  
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Their pace gradually slowed as they trekked down the wretched and dark stairway, the scent of blood heavy in the air. Richard's stomach turned and he thought for a brief moment he might vomit. But he swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat, his muscles screaming for him to stop. Vaguely they could see a pinprick of light, flickering as they ran, but present nonetheless.  
  
They were forced to speed up as they heard the faint moaning from behind them, terror making the blood pound in their temples. Subject T seemed the only one without unease, leading the way and making it harder to see where they were going (if this was possible). After another solid minute and a half of full out running, they reached the bottom of the stairs. Subject T's head whipped to the left, having spotted movement out of the corner of his eye.  
  
Dragging himself toward them was a man, each of his legs missing, having been ripped clean off. Thin strips of muscle tissue and tendon dragged behind him as he crawled, a trail of blood forming and widening as he continued. His eyes were cloudy, covered by the film of death. Short and tousled blonde hair was stained with blood, and one of his cheeks had been gnawed fully open, his teeth visible through his face. Clad in tattered and ripped labcoat and mostly missing white pants were almost drenched with blood that was almost undoubtedly his own, he stared up at them and wailed hungrily.  
  
Lara turned, unable to look at the pitiful being, and Richard took aim at the man's forehead. After a moment of hesitation, he closed his eyes and fired, hearing the sickening splatter that was without a doubt the man's head simply exploding outwards in back. Refusing to let himself look, he glanced toward the right, looking down the hallway and listening for signs of sound. Hearing nothing, he nudged Lara and bid her to continue.   
  
Subject T watched Richard jealously, having wanted to make the kill. Once more fighting the impulse to slice the man's head clean off, he followed the two departing figures. As they neared another hallway, Richard looked from left to right. To the left was light, and in addition, a lovely display of blood pooled here and there, some still fresh and slowly trailing down the wall.  
  
To the right was ominous and unwavering darkness, sending little chills up each of their spines (leave for Subject T). No matter how hard Richard squinted and focused his trained vision, he could see nothing down that hallway. But, to his relief, he also heard nothing.  
  
Now was the time to make a choice: Light and a slight feeling of security, or darkness and that same sinking feeling to overwhelm them. Neither looked too promising, and his train of thought was soon derailed by a close-up moan. Whirling around and aiming quickly, he found himself nearly face-to-face with a woman, who couldn't have been a day older than twenty-two, groping hungrily at his shirt. Out of surprise, he batted her away, managing to knock her off her feet.   
  
The woman seemed mostly intact, without bite marks, until one got a close look at her back. The entire backside of her pale blue secretary's uniform was stained a deep crimson, the ivory shine of bone visible in the area of her lower back. When she tried to force herself to her feet, her vertebrae visibly and audibly ground together, making Lara's stomach churn all over again.  
  
Slowly, the woman rose, her glazed brown eyes boring into the side of Lara's neck. Another famished moan escaped her wide open maw, and she lurched forward towards her new target. Sidestepping out of the girl's way, Richard jammed the muzzle of the gun into the girl's right temple.  
  
"I'll see you in hell.." Gritting his teeth, he pulled the trigger. The girl released a shrill cry as the bullet switfly entered and exited her skull, her head not bursting like many of the others' had. Crumpling unceremoniously, she finally lay still, glossy eyes locked onto the ceiling as if staring into heaven.  
  
Lara raised her own eyes as well, trying to forbid the tears from falling down her pallid cheeks. Holding back a frustrated sob, she turned and gave each hallway another good long glance before making a decision on impulse. Pivoting on her heels, she headed down the blood-stained hallway, more than happy to march through human excretions if it meant seeing where she was going.  
  
Jogging to catch up, Richard tried to find something comforting to say. But, since he wasn't exactly the comforting type, he failed, and forced himself to pay attention to their surroundings. Hearing Subject T come up behind them, he denied himself a glance backwards, quite sure that the oversized brute would take care of anything that would try to pursue them at this point.  
  
Lara knew it wasn't wise to simply march into 'unexplored territory' as she was, but she wanted out, and wanted out NOW. This seemed like too much from the start, but now her body has taken over her mind and she realized how hungry, thirsty, and damn well exhausted she was.   
  
Her body had almost reached it's limits, throbbing and aching here and there, her mind on fire with all kinds of fear and suspicions. A burning desire to take in fresh air ripped at her insides, and she vaguely realized that she had given in to her panic.  
  
Richard, on the other hand, was forcing himself into cool, calm collection. He knew that if her lost it now, they were all as good as dead. Even that.. thing.. that he was responsible for couldn't survive for very long with what was loose down there. A little twinge of guilt hit him, then, because deep down he was fully awae of the fact that this was all his fault, in every aspect.  
  
It was he and his brother Alexander who had created this monstrosity of a disease, and he and his brother who had failed to find a solid way to cure it. Of course, there had been anti-viruses tested for the T and G samples, and those had been pure successes. But when it came to the X-Virus, a constantly mutating mass, there was no way to capture that essence and reverse it. Simply put, once you became infected, there was no turning back.  
  
Swallowing at the thought, Richard stopped when they came to the next four-way. Listening intently to the enhanced sound that the overhead pipes provided, he grabbed Lara's arm to prevent her from going any further. When she turned to glare at him, she found him with a very serious look upon his face, one finger to his lips.  
  
Slowly, he mouthed the words, 'Don't move!'. Going stiff, Lara glanced to her right down the hallway. There, crouched in a corner and blocking the next potential door they could enter was another of the skinless beasts, eyes glimmering in the mass of shadows. Its tongue dropped from its mouth wetly, swaying back and forth along the cold cement, its clawed toes clicking lightly.  
  
Subject T, still lumbering down the hall behind them, was unaware of the looming danger that was slowly crawling forward to threaten his mate and reluctant companion. Richard slowly tugged Lara close enough to him that he could whisper to her, a plan hatching in his mind. Getting so close that Lara could feel his lips brushing her ear with each word, Richard whispered to her, "When I say, I want you to run for that door. Run as fast as you can. I'll distract it. Do you understand me?"  
  
When she slowly nodded in agreement, not even for the moment taking Subject T into consideration, he released her, aiming for one of the licker's legs and firing. The bullet struck home in what used to be a kneecap, and the beast yowled as black-purple blood oozed and spurted from the fresh wound.  
  
"Now!" Richard blurted, giving Lara a fierce shove toward the door, watching her hair fly out behind her as she skirted the groping tongue of the licker and yank open the door. Biting his lower lip, he silently prayed that this would work. He knew when she ran into the room without hesitation and slammed the door that the room was safe, and took aim again, careful not to kill the thing. Another hole appeared, this time in the left front leg, earning him a cry of rage an hurt from the writhing beast.  
  
Watching as the licker darted forward, meaning to wrap its tongue around one of his legs, Richard took a leap of faith, rolling to the side as the licker went skittering past. Grinning as he realized that this would work perfectly, he dashed for the room that Lara had gone into, knowing full well it led to another door, and a hallway. Throwing open the door, he grinned again, this time at Subject T, who hd begun to battle the ferocious licker.  
  
Making sure to make a display of slamming and bolting the door, Richard turned to Lara. Reaching out for her, he took careful note of the fear and confusion in her eyes. Digging his fingers into her arm, he began to lead her to the door at the other end of the bare room.  
  
"What the hell are you doing!? We need to wait for him! Dammit, let me go!"  
  
Turning to face her, he pressed the barrel of his gun right between her eyes. Enjoying the feeling of the shudder of terror that went through her, he stared into her face and spoke.  
  
"You will follow me, and obey every fucking word I say, or I will put another hole in that pretty little head of yours. Or, I could feed you to one of those lovely felines. I know there are at least four more roaming around. I know by the look in your eyes you don't want that. Now, let's go."  
  
Pleased at the lack of resistance, Richard began to lead her to the door, pushing her in front of him by the muzzle of his gun. Pressing it squarely into her back, he waved his gun in signal for her to open the door. Reaching out and taking the handle, she turned. Or at least, tried to, finding it locked. Biting her lower lip for a moment, she trembled, praying he wouldn't shoot her.  
  
"It... it's locked."  
  
"Easily solved." Giving her a little tug to one side, he aimed carefully and blew the lock clean off the door, kicking it open to reveal a well-lit hallway. Perhaps forty feet from them was a dead end with another door, and only twenty feet ahead was a left turn. Listening for a moment and ignoring the vicious battle that raged right outside the door, Richard cocked his head to one side.  
  
"Perfect." Shoving Lara into the hallway, never releasing her arm, he opted for the latter, half dragging, half pushing her towards the turn. After careful consideration of their short time before Subject T figured out that they were gone, he gave her another sudden shove, out into the line of sight of anything that might be in the adjacent hall.  
  
Cringing and balling her hands into fists, Lara waited several moments before opening her eyes, ashamed to find herself shaking. Raising her gaze to look down the section of darkened hallway, she let out a breath upon seeing nothing but a puddle of blood ten feet from her.  
  
"..Excellent. Seems fate has taken a vacation. "  
  
Chuckling as though he had made some tremendous joke, Richard jammed the barrel of his weapon into the small of her back, and the two slowly made their way down the hallway.  
  
Meanwhile, Subject T was in a heated dispute with the angry and feisty licker. Swiping his claws as though they were Death's scythe, he snarled and fumed as the thing dodged his attack by flattening itself to the ground.  
  
Glancing up, Subject T found himself enraged when he could no longer see the so dubbed 'bastard' or his mate. Howling in fury, he made a mad dive for the snarling licker, pinning it under his weight and ignoring the tongue that wrapped around his throat.  
  
Slicing the tongue off right away, Subject T rammed his claws right into the licker's face, relishing in the blood that began to gush onto the floor. Wrenching his claws out and sliding his eely tongue over them, he growled and rose.  
  
They couldn't get far. That bastard would pay.  
  
Pay with his life.  
  
Turning and striding to the door, Subject T paused for the briefest of moments before simply ramming the door off its hinges with one powerful fist. Sniffing the air, he continued through the open door, following the scent of his kidnapped mate.  
  
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Ooh, cliffhanger-ish. Well, I'll take seven reviews for the next update. No less, so don't be lazy! Lazy people make me sad. I make myself sad. ^_^;;; 


	15. When Memories Come Back To Haunt You

Chapter Fourteen: When Memories Come Back To Haunt You  
  
I read a wonderful, spectacular fanfic that made me forget about the seven reviews thing. Fuck that. Go read some of Raina1's stuff, if you're a Zim fan. Especially The First Blow Is Half the Battle. I cried during every chapter, and I'm not ashamed to say so.  
  
Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated.  
  
Lookie lookie! Character depth and backgrounds! Yay for that.  
  
~~~~~~text~~~~~~ = Flashback.  
  
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Making quite sure to cover her mouth with one hand, gun still making friends with the small of her back, Richard pushed Lara down the hallway at a somewhat brisk pace. Getting little chills up and down his spine from the delightful little pained sounds she made, he grinned to himself. Delving into the depths of his memory, he tried to remember what each door in this section of the facility led to, a large set of double doors just ahead.  
  
The air seemed to grow more chilly as they approached the doors, and unease curled within every nerve of Richard's being. He realized that Lara was afraid, yes, but, when they entered here, she'd have more reason to be such. Holding her still for a moment, he closed his eyes and listened to his surroundings. The faint buzz of the vent system echoed in this particular hallway, sounding like the rattle of a snare drum in the thick silence that descended upon them. With the cold air that both radiated from the closed room and from the vents came the thick scent of blood, coppery and bitter. Irritated at the smell that never gave up, Richard yanked Lara to the side with one hand, turning the handle to the left door with gun in hand.  
  
The door swung open slowly, lightly banging against the ice-covered wall and making Richard wince with the loud noise that filled both the now open room and the hallway. Praying that that noise wouldn't alert Subject T of their whereabouts, he craned his neck to stare blankly into the bleak-looking freezer.  
  
The room was perhaps twenty feet across, with a door across it leading to another portion of the restricted area. Being perhaps fifteen feet across, it contained all kinds of bagged specimens, crudely hung by hooks and covered in plastic. They waved in a ghostly manner, the plastic faintly crinkling from the sudden breeze. Upon the wall were shelves, some with glass cases and some without fronts, these containing tiny body parts. In a jar, Lara could plainly see a miniscule human fetus, held suspended by a faintly glowing green substance. Stomach doing flip-flops, she vaguely wondered if anything in here had been affected by the virus.  
  
As warm air met cold, a frigid fog rolled slowly across the floor towards them, inviting yet foreboding and ominous in the way it snaked against their legs as if to draw them closer. Lara shuddered, glancing out of the corner of her eye at the skeptical Richard. His face contorted into the mask of one torn with a decision, this being whether to take the risk of going into the testing facility, or backtrack and possibly run into the undoubtedly pursuing Suject T.  
  
After heavy debating within the recesses of his mind, Richard motioned with the gun for Lara to go ahead of him. Staring at him wide-eyed, she looked aghast at the thought of walking into the obvious deathtrap. Ignoring the blue fluorescent light's flickering, Richard gripped her arm roughly, summoning his strength and near flinging her into the room.  
  
Slamming facefirst into what couldn't have been anything other than one of the plastic-laden subjects, Lara groaned as her face flared with fresh pain. Gripping the plastic in an attempt to hoist herself up and to her feet, she was greeted by a face right before her own as the sheet crumpled around her feet.  
  
Mouth opened in an 'o' of shock, Lara couldn't move or scream, merely stand and stare into the face of what must have been a nine year old boy, eyes rolled back and covered by the now familiar film of death. He was asian, naturally tanned skin made more pale from the cold and the lack of blood in his veins that should have been kept him from being the pallid monstrosity that he had become. Blue-tinted lips parted slightly, the boy was suspended by a hook that went in cleanly through the back of his skull and protruded from his forehead. Blood that was long since frozen made a pattern down his forehead and nose from the wound, almost black by now. Raven hair illuminated eerily by the flickering blue lights, the boy's bare corpse swung faintly to and fro, sending Lara's stomach into knots.  
  
Suppressing the urge to vomit for what was the umpteenth time now, she stumbled backwards and away from the foul-smelling child. Freezing when she felt her back jam into what was unmistakeably the barrel of the gun, she stifled a cry and went stiff. Richard, hiding his shock at the sight of the dead boy, dug his nails into the side of her neck with his right hand, and pushed her forward. Holding her face inches away from the boy's, Richard grinned maniacally, another sinister plan forming in his mind.  
  
"Listen to me, and listen carefully. Do exactly what I say, and I won't blow your fucking head off. Understood? Nod if you do. Good, good." Smirking at the frantic nod that aided in the tearing of the sensitive flesh of Lara's neck, Richard continued.  
  
"Now, kiss him. Plant a big wet one on him."  
  
Lara's eyes grew wide, mouth dropping open again. A tremor ran down her spine, her mind screaming in fear and disgust. Richard pushed her face a little closer, so she could feel the chill radiating from the frozen corpse.  
  
"Do it, or I'll put another hole in your goddamn face." As if to emphasize this, he rammed the gun against her left cheek, earning a muffled cry. Lara shuddered once, closed her eyes tightly, and leaned forward, closing the distance between the pair of blue lips and her own. Her stomach turned immediately as she felt the icyness of the murdered child's lips against her own, holding back a cry of anguish and revulsion.  
  
Richard laughed, shaking his head and yanking Lara's face away, watching her spit and moan faintly. The taste sour and lingering in her mouth, Lara simply allowed the tears of bitter defeat roll down her cheeks. Her body couldn't take much more of this, and her mind was breaking down under the weight of the constantly refreshing fear.  
  
Finding herself viciously shoved to the side and then forward, she swallowed hard and did what she knew Richard wanted her to do without him even hinting, pushing the door open to reveal flickering darkness.  
  
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Snarling angrily, Subject T lumbered down the hallway just past the empty white room's doors, sniffing franticallt at the air for his mate's scent. His vision had gone red, now, his anger so potent that his head swam. Slicing his claws at the air blindly, he continued his jagged path down the bleary and rank hallway.  
  
Trudging through another massive pool of drying blood, he yowled in anguish. That man had taken everything from him. Everything he had really wanted, everything he had, and everything he could have become was ripped from him, and it was all because of that sick bastard.  
  
He vaguely recalled more of his life, before all of this had happened. It came to him in brief flashes, torn away immediately by the rage that was eating at his insides like a disease. He remembered his wife, his home, his friends, even what he had once looked like, before losing it in the vast sea of crimson. One memory, though, stuck with him and he dwelled on it, pace slowing and eyes glazing.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The phone rang. Once, twice, three times.  
  
Realizing that his wife wasn't home yet and that therefore he would have to answer the blaring telephone, Thomas DeSalvo reached over the arm of the couch, not even bothering to look over. Lifting the phone from the cradle, he put it to his ear.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Thomas DeSalvo?" It was a deep-voiced man, his voice hinting at major stress. Straightening against the back of the couch as though being watched, Thomas blinked.  
  
"Yes, this is he. Can..I help you?"  
  
"..Mr. DeSalvo, I regret to inform you that there has been.. an accident."  
  
All at once, time stopped. Thomas's eyes grew wide as dinnerplates, and his grip loosened on the phone to the point where it nearly slipped from his fingers. Swallowing to wet his suddenly parched throat, he spoke in a hushed voice.  
  
"An... accident? What do you mean?!" His breath caught in his throat.  
  
"..Yes. I'm sorry to have to relate to you that your wife was involved in a car accident. Whe was turning left from a main street into a residential area and..she was struck by a drunk driver going the wrong way in the wrong lane. She didn't survive. I'm sorry.."  
  
This time, the phone slipped to the ground, unnoticed and immediately forgotten. Tears of shock and despair welled up within wide green eyes, and slowly made trails down Thomas's cheeks.  
  
Faintly, muffled against the carpet, he could hear the man on the other end of the line calling his name.  
  
He didn't much care anymore.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A half sob, half beastial snarl managed to escape the enraged beat that was once known as Thomas DeSalvo. Lifting his head to stare down the hallway, Subject T broke into a full-out run, bloodlust overtaking him and swallowing the remaining traces of his surfacing humanity.  
  
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	16. When Life Gives You a Good Kick

Chapter Fifteeen: When Life Gives You a Good Kick....  
  
(hands Richard to Jen in a box, all wrapped up and happy-like) Merry.. uhm... Unbirthday. :)  
  
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Barreling through the hallway, Subject T roared in frustration and rage. His senses, blinded by his anger, were unable to track the scent of the kidnapped Lara. Turning a corner and sniffing at the air frantically, he swiped his claws at a zombie that had shuffled her way to the intersection. She fell into three pieces, and was immediately ignored as her blood pooled out around her half-rotted corpse. After taking another three turns and slamming through a steel door, he threw his head back and yowled as he found himself at a familiar dead end. His head throbbed, and the human part of him thought perhaps he was dying from the virus, his blood beginning a familiar burning feeling that spread through his veins like acid. Doubling over for a moment, he panted hard, deep obsidian eyes locked onto a bloody handprint on the wall before him.   
  
After a solid three minutes or so, he slowly straightened, taking a few wobbly steps forward and then turning back down a hallway that he and Lara had traveled down not a few hours before. Tramping through the licker blood that he himself had shed, he stopped at a four-way intersection and tried to clear his aching mind. After a moment of sniffing faintly, he caught a familiar, intoxicating scent that turned his head right away. Turning to his right, he growled under his breath and took off running, following the trail of half-faded perfume and sweat that his mate and her captor had left behind.   
  
In his mind, Subject T began to play out all of the cruel and unspeakable things he would do to Richard when he caught up with him. He imagined slowly clawing the man open, happily watching the blood seep out of his body and onto the cold stone floor. He thought of slicing his arms off, then his legs, letting him feel the most absorbing and definite pain he had ever felt, and letting it be the last thing he experienced.   
  
As he turned another corner, he made a facial expression that couldn't be anything other than a grin, and continued his set path to find his mate.   
  
Slowly, the door swung open, to reveal flickering darkness. Lara swallowed hard to herself, feeling beads of sweat form on her brow and her heart begin to pound like a bass drum. Fueled only by the reminder of her possibly imminent death by the gun that was currently shoved into her back, she slowly stepped forward. She took a few steps, and then froze upon hearing a shuffling from the far side of the room.   
  
Slowly studying the opposite end of the room with what little light was provided, Lara watched as from behind a counter, someone slowly rose. As the light faded and returned with the flickering fluorescents, Lara took a wary step back.   
  
After another moment, Lara's mouth opened in a wide but silent scream as something that resembled a coffee mug came flying at her head, knocking her right in the middle of her forehead and sending her sprawling to the floor. Moaning softly in the throbbing pain that blurred her vision, she blinked a few times as Richard stepped before her, aiming his gun at the hunched figure in the corner.   
  
"Stand up, or I'll blow your brains out."   
  
Slowly, the woman rose, trembling with fear an paranoia. The woman was black, clad in a very professional-type business suit, which was somewhat too small for her overweight figure, and stained with blood in several places. In a show of defeat and cooperation, she held up her hands, and took a step or two forward. Richard smirked a little, and slowly lowered his weapon as he studied the frightened-looking woman.   
  
"And you are?" He spoke in a calm tone, almost cocky, ignoring the half-unconscious Lara who was struggling to get to her feet. Giving him a death glare that could have sent chills up his spine were he paying any attention, Lara steadied herself with the help of a nearby desk. Looking around slowly, she realized that they were in a secretary's office, one that was almost normal in appearance.   
  
The desk next to her was covered with scattered and unorganized papers, as well as pictures of what could only be the woman's family, all happy and smiling. Lara felt a pang of jealousy, seeing their smiling faces and recalling her current predicament. The walls were a placid pale peach color, sending a rare feeling of peace through her. The comforting thing was that there was no blood anywhere in sight, leave for the blood that was currently dripping to the floor from her forehead.   
  
Lightly kicking the coffee mug she'd been brained with, Lara turned to look at the woman, who had finally found the nerve to speak.   
  
"M-my name is S-shelly M-m-morris…" She spoke in painfully strong stutter, and had that particular 'black-style speech' that made Richard want to shoot her on the spot. Figuring that the stutter was only evident because of sheer terror, Richard shifted his weight to his left leg, trying to look particularly bored.   
  
Looking slightly hurt by the man's demeanor, the woman continued in her stammer, explaining that she was a secretary and she'd been holed up in here since the first wave of 'those godawful things' had come down her hallway. Shifting his weight a few more times, Richard listened, looking not at all interested nor surprised. Lara came up next to him, trying to wipe the blood that was still dripping down her face in thin rivulets across the back of her arm.  
  
Glancing to her out of the corner of his eye, Richard snorted at the venomous looks she was giving him, and lightly poked at her wound with the end of his gun. She drew in a breath sharply through her teeth, and made as if to ignore him by turning to the older woman, who was wringing her hands nervously. Opening her mouth as if to speak, Lara found herself lost for words as she watched the annoyingly twitchy woman fumble with a bottle of water, taking a greedy sip as if nobody was watching.. Her eyes darted to the bored-looking pair, and for a moment she looked embarrassed, holding out her water bottle, which was quickly pawed from her hands by Lara. Tilting her head back and letting the somewhat cool liquid slip down her parched throat, Lara found herself nearly downing what remained of the bottle before she could stop herself.  
  
Richard rolled his eyes, and made a swipe with his free hand, hitting the water bottle and knocking it to the floor, smirking as the remaining precious liquid trickled from the bottle and formed a neat little puddle at their feet. Lara's mouth dropped open in shock and anger, this being the only source of beverage she'd acquired in hours.  
  
"You asshole! What the fuck did you do that for?!"   
  
Losing her temper along with control over her body, Lara made as if to claw Richard's face with one hand, almost succeeding before her hand was caught in his, and bent at a painful angle. Biting into her lower lip to keep from crying out as he tightened his grip on her now throbbing wrist, she hunched over and forced back a fresh wave of hot tears. Shelly's mouth dropped open, and when she stepped forward to intervene, Richard startled her by turning an icy stare upon her.   
  
Swallowing hard and straightening herself, Shelly scowled and tried her best to look threatening. She, having three children, was used to being in control and refused to stand for anyone being abused in a situation like this, and took another step towards Richard when she heard Lara's wrist pop out of place with a gut-wrenching crack. Lara screamed, clenching her eyes closed and finally allowing the tears of pain, embarrassment, and hatred make their way down her flushed cheeks.  
  
"You let go of her, right now! Y'hear me?!" Shelly reached out to try and wrench Richard's hand away from Lara, when she was clubbed roughly upside the head with the gun, clasped tightly in his free hand. Too shocked to even cry out as her temple began to bleed, Shelly staggered backwards and stared at Richard like a deer caught in the headlights. Lara, while Richard was distracted with the pain he'd inflicted upon the other woman, managed to wrench herself free and almost tumbled backwards, only able to find her balance when she lashed out with one foot and caught Richard squarely in the crotch.  
  
Doubling over as the all of the breath somehow escaped from his lungs, Richard groaned in what must have been the most excruciating pain he'd felt in years as his entire spine seemed to catch fire and release a horrid burning, stabbing sensation that finally brought him to his knees. As his face rapidly changed from its usual pallid color to a deep beet red, Lara grabbed onto Shelly's arm and jerked her roughly towards the door. Snapping out of her momentary daze and wiping the blood away from her face with the back of one hand, Shelly nodded to Lara and the two prepared to head back through the room that Lara had mentally dubbed the 'meatlocker'.  
  
The two skirted around the downed Richard, who clawed at their legs, missed, and fell to the floor on his face, finally finding enough breath to bellow at the top of his lungs like a wild animal. Lifting his still-red face, he watched in utter rage as they exited the room without so much as a backward glance. Desparately dragging himself forward towards his weapon, which he'd dropped the moment Lara's foot had connected with his groin, Richard snarled and pushed himself upward and onto his knees. Slowly and menacingly, he wiped away a thin line of saliva that had strung itself from his lips to his chin with the back of his left hand, beside himself with fury when the heavy door slammed behind the escaping females.  
  
"I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU BOTH! JUST YOU WAIT!" He roared, summoned his strength, and despite his aching manhood, charged toward the door in an all out run, one hand outstretched to grip the doorknob. As the thrill of the hunt began to rise up within him once more, he turned the doorknob roughly, jaw dropping open when he found that it would not turn.  
  
"NO!" Roaring again in the utmost frustration fury, feeling it take his mind over completely, Richard banged both his fist and the gun against the door, emitting strangled curses and death threats.  
  
On the other side of the door, a panting Shelly held up her office key, smiling nervously to Lara. Lara's eyes widened questioningly, and she canted her head out of confusion.  
  
"It locks on either side of the door.. Meaning, unless he finds a copy of this key or he breaks down that door, he's not going anywhere." Shelly huffed proudly, straightening and turning to head back through the short hallway of test subjects and out the other door, when a faint moaning stopped her in her tracks. Both she and Lara backed up, slowly, and pressed their backs against the cold steel door. Jolting whenever Richard hit the inside of the thick barrier, the two simply stared out into the flickering darkness of the tiny, frigid hallway, listening to a faint squeaking sound as it echoed about them.  
  
"W-what the hell is that..?!" Lara hissed at Shelly, eyes darting around the room for the source of the sound. She noticed, then, that the door on the other end of the room had closed, leaving the room even darker than before.. Something near that same door was swinging to and fro, casting flickering shadows upon the whitewashed walls. Glancing a bit more toward the ceiling, Lara's stomach turned somersaults as she realized that the squeaking was coming from one of the hooks, aiding to the casting of ominous shadows and further striking fear into the two women's hearts. Shivering and feeling her teeth begin to chatter, Lara took a careful and silent step forward, curiosity momentarily taking over her fear and leading her closer to the swinging object, blocked by the other various (and thankfully still covered) subjects between the furthest hook and the closest.  
  
Finally, Lara found herself edging around the swinging hook, unable to see due the the momentary lapse in light. Her heart thudded in her chest, blood pounding in her ears like the beat of a huge drum, and her teeth sunk into her lower lip as she edged closer to the door, waiting for precious light to reveal whatever may be in front of her. To her right, she heard Shelly trailing behind, able to distinguish that she wasn't near as close to the wall, nor being as careful with her steps. As Lara reached out to grope for her companion and hopefully pull her further away from danger and closer to the door, the light buzzed and shone, eerily bright, upon what was in front of them.  
  
The hook that held the impaled Asian boy was swinging, only because said boy had begun to flail about, clawing wildly at the air, and having taken notice of the two women, was struggling wildly in an attempt to ease his voracious appetite. His mouth fell agape, nearly blackened tongue hanging out of the corner of his blue-tinted lips, his teeth gnashing, even cutting through his own flesh in his frenzy. Moaning and wailing hungrily, the boy continued to kick about, while Shelly began to scream, and Lara turned and began to dry heave.  
  
Finally, the boy struggled to the point where the top of his head, directly above where the hook was inserted into his frail body, began to visibly separate from the rest, streams of still warm tendon sending little clouds of steam into the freezing room, slowly stretching to their limits and then finally giving way and tearing. Lara's stomach finally gave in and heaved out pure bile when the thick crunch of bone echoed about them, the boy toppling some three feet to the floor and crumpling as a pool of blood steadily grew about him, and began to freeze.  
  
Shelly continued to scream, only after a good thirty seconds thinking to cover her mouth with her shaking hands, and sunk to her knees, staring at the glazed and blood-filled eyes of the child, which had nearly been ripped out with the rest of the tissue. With a faint squish, a thick lump of brain matter slid out of the gaping skull and into the huge mess of blood and bone that was already nearly rock solid. Shelly squeezed her eyes shut and began to pray to any God she could think of, while Lara moaned softly and buried her face in the door, ignoring the thin streams of bile that still oozed past her lips and onto her vest.  
  
"Oh God... what have we done...?" Lara softly murmured to herself, her vision beginning to fade in and out, Richard's angry cries filling her ears as she began to swoon, and finally, blackness claimed her and she knew no more.  
  
x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x  
  
Stopping dead in his tracks when a terrified female scream filled his ears, Subject T growled and hissed into the dark nothingness of another familiar hallway. Turning and lumbering towards the sound, which continued for a good, long minute or so, he raked his claws at the air, the need to shed more blood welling up within him. His mind was still on the revenge track, and no idea he thought of was nearly evil enough for the rage he wanted to take out upon Richard. Nothing was brutal enough; cruel enough, inhumane enough, and nothing could ever equal what he himself had been through. So his mind spun, and continued spitting out devious methods of torture, and his body followed the fading sound.  
  
Finally, the screaming stopped, and Subject T skidded to a halt in the middle of a four way intersection.  
  
At a loss, all he could manage to do was throw his head back and scream.  
  
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Finally, after all this time, I have done it! Please, please, please leave me some inspirational reviews.. ;.; 


	17. The Eye is Watching You

Chapter Sixteen: The Eye Is Watching You…

YAY FOR UPDATES YAYAYAYAYAY! Isn't it fabulous? I worked hard on this bad boy, and if you don't like it, GO TO HELL!  In any case, this should be a pretty neat chapter… But don't assume you know everything! TWISTS AND PLOTSTUFFS. BEWARE of typos. When you see one, lemme know, and I'll fix it ASAP.

text flashback

Finally, the screams and sobs had cut off, and all that could be heard echoing through the freezer were occasional whimpers, and a faint chattering of teeth. Groaning softly as consciousness returned, Lara tried to push herself to a sitting position, found that nearly all her limbs had lost feeling, and therefore, fell back onto her face with a broken string of curses. Rolling slowly and painfully onto her back as pins and needles washed over her, she stared blankly at her hands, trying to open and close her fingers a few inches from her face. She had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from screaming as the joints creaked and stretched, and she found that her eyes could not fill with tears, for what remained of the tears earlier had frozen her eyelashes together, and the fresh, salty tears burned her frigid flesh. Slowly rolling her head back to stare at Shelly, who appeared to be down for the count as well, Lara felt a sob swell up in her chest, and escape her in a bitter, dry noise that echoed dully around her.

Carefully raising her right arm, she began to flex her frozen joints, clamping her left hand over her mouth to keep from screaming as pins and needles overtook her. Finally, when she had regained most of the feeling in her limbs, she reached up and grabbed onto the nearest shelf, trying to carefully pull herself to her feet. Nearly losing her balance more than once, she had nearly pulled herself fully upright when the flimsy shelf gave way and wrenched free of the wall. Lara cursed loudly as the shelf and its contents came crashing down upon her, a jar full of some form of green goop shattering on the floor next to her, and dousing her with the frigid liquid.

This rather earth-shattering noise finally roused Shelly, who sat up with a little cry of surprise, brown eyes wide in terror and shock, the noise ringing in her ears. Eyes darting around the room for the source, she stared at the screaming Lara, who was frantically trying to wipe something very gooey and very green from her arms and vest.

Lara panicked, feeling her skin begin to burn immediately, and tried to wipe it off with her hands, the stuff thick enough that she could perhaps just fling it from her fingers. Unfortunately, she found no such luck, and her skin began to turn a deep crimson color, the burning sensation intensifying and turning Lara into a hunched, screaming ball of terror.

It was as though her skin were on fire, her right arm having been nearly covered with the stuff, the red color growing still darker, and tiny blisters began to rise upon her skin. All Lara could do was scream, curses lost in her state of pain and fear.

Shelly struggled to her feet, only to scramble to Lara's side, whose blue eyes were wide and tear-filled, and pulled off her sweater-vest, doing her best to wipe away the offending substance that had brought Lara to convulsions, her eyes rolled back into her head and her mouth hanging open. Shelly's eyes filled with tears of frustration and panic as Lara lay there, seizing, and she continued to wipe away the last traces of the foul-smelling goop, all while trying to use her shoulder to wipe away the tears that had nearly frozen to her skin.

On the other side of the heavy, locked door, Richard had calmed considerably, and was staring blankly into space, lips drawn into a thin, tight line that did nothing to show his still boiling anger. Slumped down against the door, he merely listened to Shelly's screaming, and heard a faint gurgling noise, rather hoping one or the other was dying or dead. A little smirk pulled at his lips, and he rose, glancing to the other door at the opposite side of Shelly's office. Ocean blue eyes glittering viciously, he pushed himself to his feet. Taking a moment to contemplate all the horrible ways he could kill the two women, assuming they weren't already dead (from the sound of it, they weren't doing so well), Richard began a slow, confident stride for the door, somewhere n the back of his mind already completely sure it would be unlocked, and stopped when he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye. Turning slowly, his eyes narrowed as he found the source of the gleam: a framed picture of Shelly's family. Lips now pulling back into a ferocious snarl, Richard took a swipe with the hand that still clutched his gun, sending the picture into the nearest wall. The glass shattered immediately, and the flimsy frame bent under the pressure. Snarl quickly fading into a cocky little grin, Richard resumed his slow pace to the other door, intent on taking a few lives very soon…

Shelly had shrunk down into a weeping, shaking mass, while Lara was lying, completely motionless (leave for the occasional twitch), eyes rolled up into her head. Her arm had turned a deep, horrible crimson color, and in a few places, had begun to bleed. It was no longer growing worse, though, as Shelly's sweater was now covered with the stuff that had ravaged Lara's arm. The sweater, though, had begun to smoke, and Shelly could see that the green substance had begun to burn tiny holes in the thick material, bubbling it away much like acid.

After a few moments of wide-eyed staring, Shelly slowly reached out with one hand and shook Lara's right shoulder. Lara remained motionless, not even the standard cloud being drawn from her mouth by the cold air in the freezer. Her chest did not rise, and she had by now stopped twitching. A look of horror spread over Shelly's now pallid face, and she shook Lara more violently, beginning to sob once more.

"No! No! You can't die on me, child! I can't be alone down here! Please, wake up!"

For every syllable, another shake to Lara's shoulder. Still, she did not respond, and Shelly sifted through her racing thoughts to remember the CPR training she'd receive all the way back in high school, and found herself at a momentary loss. Deciding it'd be best to do something, and do it fast, she improvised, leaning down and pinching Lara's nose closed, taking the deepest breath she could manage, and pressed her lips into Lara's, forcing the air into the younger woman's lungs.

Sitting back up and taking another deep breath, she forced another lungful of air into Lara's mouth, trying not to let her panicked tears fall onto Lara's paled face. Sitting up once more, she placed one hand over the other, and pushed her hands into Lara's chest, pumping her hands into the redhead's ribcage once, twice, and three times, staring down to see if she could find any signs of life. As Shelly leaned down once more to give Lara more air, Lara sucked in a dry breath, an almost inhuman sound escaping from her parched throat. Slowly, her eyes came back from their whited-out state, and she stared blankly at the ceiling through glazed eyes, chest slowly rising and falling. Shelly weakly began to cry again, covering her face with her hands and thanking God, Jesus, and any other deity that came to mind, and Lara slowly sat up, glazed blue eyes unblinking. Slowly, her fingers hooking into claws, she reached out for the unsuspecting Shelly, lips pulling back into a silent scream.

Somewhere else in the underground laboratory, Subject T was on the defensive, battling a sudden barrage of the undead, claws swiping and teeth gnashing as he fought off the hungry, rotting ex-Umbrella staff. One woman, clad in all white, looking eerily like a ghost, dragged herself across the floor, this only suiting her because Subject T had severed her legs with one swipe of his powerful claws. Reaching out desperately for Subject T's right leg, she sunk her long, blue-painted fingernails into his calf, and made a weak attempt to rip out a chunk of his flesh, her body losing more blood every second, any color that remained in her face simply draining away. Roaring in agony as the hungry woman tore a small but painful chunk from his leg, he simply raised his foot and brought it down into her spine, crushing her beneath his bulk and eliciting an agonizingly high-pitched scream from the woman, who felt no pain at all. Another hungry attacker, this time an important-looking man in a business suit, latched onto his left arm and did his best to sink what teeth he had left into Subject T's left arm. All it took was one powerful wave of Subject T's arm, and the man's head hit the floor with a dull thud and even more blood coated Subject T, the walls, and the floor.

Giving up and simply swinging his arms madly in hopes that it would disperse the hungry crowd, Subject T clenched his eyes closed, the human part of him unable to take the gory sight before him. Hearing screams, moans, and wails from the dying zombies before him, her only stopped pinwheeling his powerful arms when all sounds had stopped. The only noise that remained was the faint dripping of blood from the ceiling, where one unidentified eyeball had become stuck to a ventilation duct, the nerves behind it making a tiny puddle on the floor some eleven feet below. The green, glazed eye seemed to be staring down at him, staring into his very core and sending a shiver down his spine. Trying his best to ignore it, he began to advance down the hallway, staring straight ahead so as not to study the eyeball further.

Unable now to hear the screams of his terrified mate, or the other voice that had accompanied it, Subject T roared in frustration. This place was nothing but a huge, worthless maze that seemed to serve no purpose other than to confuse, intimidate, and frighten anyone trapped within its walls. He found that he was all of the above, and didn't know whether or not to proceed in the hunt for his precious Lara, or resume the hunt for the bastard, Richard. He hadn't figured yet that they might have separated, deciding that where there was Lara, there would be Richard right behind her with his fucking gun that he seemed to love to much. Growling under his breath, Subject T snorted in disgust, another memory or two popping into his head.

"Welcome to Umbrella Labs. My name is Meghan; I'll be Dr. Ashford's assistant today. How are you feeling, Mr. DeSalva?"

Sighing a little as he rose from the uncomfortable waiting room chair, Thomas gruffly corrected the woman, eyes locked onto the ugly carpet.

"It's DeSalvo."

Finally raising his eyes to the girl who'd spoken, his jaw nearly dropped. The girl was positively gorgeous, with green eyes, blonde hair, and the kind of figure any man would love. Unfortunately for him, the longer he studied her, the more he realized that she looked like his late wife. Doing the best he could to resume avoiding looking at her, he swallowed hard, not noticing the way she rolled her eyes at him.

"My mistake, sir. If you'll follow me right this way, Dr. Ashford would love to talk to you."

A little impressed with how fast Ashford had responded, Thomas raised his eyes again, and cocked a brow. The man had seemed so… uninterested on the phone, and yet had called him in for a little 'chat', as he'd put it. He'd expected to, as it always seemed to be with big businessmen, wait for at least half an hour in this stuffy little room with its faded blue wallpaper and its ugly grey carpet. But he'd only been here for perhaps five minutes before this girl, who couldn't have been over twenty-one, he assumed, had come flouncing out of the room beyond heavy-looking wooden doors.

Meghan turned, and, assuming Thomas would follow, pushed open the door with ease, and Thomas indeed followed, hands stuffed into the pockets of his black slacks, everything about his posture pointing to the fact that he did not want to be here. Yes, he was curious, but this man was a bit… odd… , having showed up with the police after his wife's funeral, and had simply lurked about, watching him as though he were an animal in a cage.

After walking what seemed an endless hallway, past numerous cubicles and offices, they reached a pure black door, which Meghan meekly knocked upon, quickly straightening her posture (as well as her outfit), and a faint, accented voice called, "Come in, come in."

Pushing open the door and holding it for Thomas, she smirked as he quickly wrenched his hands from his pockets, and entered the bleak-looking office, filled with all kinds of foreign paintings, and strange-looking sculptures. Meghan gave Dr. Ashford a sly little smile, and then pulled the door closed, right behind Thomas. Jumping a little, Thomas turned to stare irritatedly at the closed door. After a brief moment of cursing under his breath, he put on the best smile he could, pushing aside the fact that 'Meghan' looked so much like Claire that it was painful, and turned to Dr. Ashford, who held out his hands welcomingly from behind his expensive-looking mahogany desk.

"Welcome, welcome, it's so good to finally meet you!" Dr. Ashford was grinning broadly, the faintest hint of British accent throwing Thomas's guard off.

"I hated to have to be so informal about… err… Mrs. DeSalvo's passing, but you know, secret business and all that." Saying this so casually that Thomas's mouth dropped open again, Richard continued to smile. This almost forcing Thomas to leap across the desk and punch this mad he didn't even know, he plopped himself down heavily into a chair on the opposite side of the desk, and immediately dug his fingers into the armrests.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you here. I understand that your wife's passing has left you somewhat… lost. I also understand, from your records, that since that time you're been checked into the Richard Davies Institute..." Richard glanced at some papers on his desk over his glasses, "twice since then. May I inquire as to why?"

Thomas shifted uncomfortably, and finally mumbled, "I miss her, okay? Is that wrong?"

Shaking his head a little, Richard spoke calmly and understandingly.

"Not at all, not at all! But to go so far as to try and end your own life? Is it really that bad?"

"I can't stop thinking about her…I miss her so much…" Thomas blurted, tears springing to his deep, pine-green eyes, and he lowered his head in shame. Richard reached into his pocket and removed a handkerchief, and reached across the desk, placing it in Thomas's lap. Thomas dabbed at his eyes with it, and finally looked up at Richard gratefully.

"Is it that you want to forget about her? Forget that she is gone, forget about your loss? You want to forget your hurt, correct?"

Thomas's eyes grew wide, and he had to take a moment to dab his eyes again, raking one hand through his jet-black hair. After a deafening moment of silence, he finally answered, "Y-yes… I can't stand it… I think about her all the time; I get no peace without her…."

Giving another understanding nod, Richard reached over and patted Thomas's hand. Pondering for a moment, Richard smiled a little to himself, as though he'd just made a brilliant decision in his mind.

"I can help you forget, Mr. DeSalvo. I can help you be free from those thoughts that plague you. All it takes is a test."

Gaping at Richard open-mouthed, Thomas forgot all about wiping at his eyes, and swallowed a few times, dumbfounded.

"A test?"

Richard nodded matter-of-factly, and spoke softly, almost as if to calm Thomas.

"Yes, you'll just let us do a few.... choice experiments upon you, and you won't have to worry about any of those problems anymore. We'll help you forget. I can make it go away, if you assist me with this."

Thomas thought to himself for a moment, eyes still wide, and mouth still open. This could be his chance to finally be happy again! He could forget about the accident, about the funeral, about the pain. He could be… himself… all over again, and nothing could stop him. But what kind of 'experiments' would help that?

"…Can I think about it?" Biting his lower lip as though he'd made a mistake, Thomas stared at Richard, waiting for his response. His eyes wavered to show a hint of annoyance, and then returned to that understanding, gleeful state.

"Of course! Come back anytime! They'll know who you are at the front desk. They'll send you right to me." Richard gave a toothy grin, and Thomas suddenly felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"And… your name again, sir?" Thomas asked slowly.

"Richard Ashford. Don't hesitate to call." Smiling still, Richard slid a business card across the table, and rose. Thomas followed suit, and shook Richard's hand, smiling widely as well, knowing that everything would be all right from here on in…

Subject T thought to himself vaguely, "Was I ever wrong…", then continued down the hallway, sniffing at the air to find his mate and her kidnapper, turning left and vanishing down another hallway.

WOW HOW FABULOUS, HUHUHUHUH?! Review or no updates FOREVER. Now love me, beetches.


	18. Like I Need Another Hole In The Head

Chapter 17: Like I Need Another Hole in the Head  
Sorry for the short chapter, folks, but I have been SO busy, and have NO computer of my own! Hell, I can't even save this puppy onto this, so I have to print it and retype it all later! Blame the library and its lack of disks.

Richard began to descend a very dark, eerie-looking staircase, gun clutched tightly in both hands. He hated being unable to see anything, eyes darting about in the darkness to find even the slightest sign of movement, or even light, and tried his best not to mumble curses to the void around him. After a full minute of pure silence, Richard upped his pace to a slow jog; the spiral-style staircase making him almost dizzy as he headed further into what he knew was the restricted section of the lab. Upon hearing a dry moan, he slowed immediately, nearly sending himself tumbling headfirst down the stairs. Gripping the railing tightly to keep himself upright, Richard cocked his head, listening carefully for the source of the sound. 

"H-help me…Please… someone help….!"

Sighing a little and letting himself relax, he continued to jog down the stairs, a pinprick of light near the bottom catching his eye and giving birth to a glimmer of hope within himself. As he neared the bottom, he heard the voice ring out again, almost metallic in the way it echoed in the tiny stairwell, and he shuddered a little, the sound harsh within the silence. Finally reaching the bottom and realizing that he was on the ground floor, now, as far down as the labs went, he sighed in relief. With the way this floor was sealed off, there was no way in hell there could be any of the undead technicians or undead anything, for that matter, roaming about down here.  
Smirking a little as the voice resonated from within the next room; Richard slowly and carefully sidestepped around the corner, and found himself horrified to find a pile of bodies, some in several pieces, right in the doorway. Flies had all but taken over the entire room, landing in the various splatters of blood here and there, as well as the upturned faces of the ex-staff, one head lolling back to stare right at Richard.  
Well, almost stare, because the eyeballs were no more, two bullet holes right where a pair of bright green eyes used to be. Richard's mouth dropped open as he realized he was staring right into the face of his secretary, half of her once lustrous blonde locks having been ripped clean off her head, taking much of the scalp with it. Her mouth was open in a silent scream, and Richard could see, since she was on the top of the pile, that one of her arms had been torn clean from the socket, a thick mass of tendons hanging loosely from the socket. The arm, he could see, had been thrown across the room, the sleeve of the labcoat she'd been wearing tainted crimson with blood, and was hanging over a computer monitor, the keyboard now filled to the brim with blood that had long since dried, leaving the keys sticky and matted with tiny clumps of flesh.  
Richard felt his stomach heave and threaten to rid itself of the lunch he'd had so long ago, and he clenched his jaw in an attempt to keep himself from turning and walking back the way he'd come. He was intent on finding the source of the voice, and slowly stepped around the bodies, and the growing puddle of blood, to peer into the far corner of the room. Mouth dropping open again, he stood rigid, and remained silent, staring at a man lying in the corner whose legs had been shot multiple times over, the bullet holes showing through his blue scrubs. His skin was horridly pallid, and his eyes were glazed with what must have been excruciating pain. He was not yet a zombie, but was very near death, his mouth hanging open as he wailed another plea for help. Slowly, his head rolled forward so he could stare past Richard, and his left hand rose to point, seemingly right at the horrified man. Suddenly, a shot rang out from behind Richard, and a clean bullet hole appeared in the middle of the man's forehead. Before Richard could turn to see where the shot had come from, though, he was clubbed roughly upon the head, and the world slowly faded to black.

Lara's hands grabbed Shelly's shoulders, and Shelly turned, feeling Lara shake her violently. Her reddened eyes grew wide as she realized Lara had joined the ranks of the undead, and that she had no escape from her now-dead comrade. Lara's face grew closer to Shelly's neck, and as her nails dug in, Shelly began to scream…   
She sat up, still screaming, and began to flail, only after several moments realizing that she was not about to be eaten by Lara, who was still unconscious on the floor next to her. Realization dawning upon her, Shelly sighed; quite glad that it had all been just a horrible dream. Slowly, she reached over, and began to shake Lara's shoulders, trying her best to be gentle, despite her tense hands and still-panicked demeanor.  
Lara rolled over, groaning softly, and opened her eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling as she tried to regain her focus. Slowly, she sat up, and glanced over at Shelly, who was still shaking.  
"You okay?" Lara looked confused for a moment, and shrugged when Shelly nodded quickly.  
"We need to get out of here before Richard escapes, so let's try and go back the way we came... Maybe we can find Subject T and get the hell out of here… Are you sure you're okay? You look awful."   
"I'm fine, child. Let's get movin', though, before it's too late." Standing carefully, Shelly reached down and offered Lara her hand, pulling the younger woman to her feet with little difficulty. Slowly, the two edged their way closer to the door, avoiding the mess the little boy had made of himself, and slid through the half-open door. Glancing about to make sure that they were alone, Lara leaned against the wall, and debated on something for a moment. Finally, she turned away from the door and took in the deepest breath she could, then let it all out in a loud scream.  
"SUBJECT T! SUBJECT T, WHERE ARE YOU?! WE'RE DOWN HERE!"  
Somewhere not far away, Subject T stopped in mid stride. Hearing his mate screaming, he turned and jogged for the source of the noise, getting closer and closer by the second. Finally, he turned one last corner, claws out in front of him, and ran right into Lara, who grew rigid in his arms, eyes widening and then half-closing. Slowly, Subject T pulled one arm away from Lara, his eyes widening in shock. Two of his wicked claws had jammed itself right through Lara's stomach, and she'd begun to bleed, just a little at first, then, as he withdrew his hand slowly, the blood began to soak through the vest, and Lara dropped to the floor with a muffled squeak, Shelly just barely catching her.  
Terrified by the horrible beast that stood before her, Shelly simply began to scream all over again, clutching the bleeding, half-conscious Lara close against her.  
"No, no.. Shelly, it's okay.." Lara mumbled through a mouthful of her own blood, eyes rolling back into her head, that focusing again. Subject T, horrified and disgusted with himself, began to scream himself, obsidian eyes wide with rage, pain, and anger.  
In Shelly's arms, Lara lost consciousness once more.

I know, I know, I'm bad and mean. Review or no more updates! EVER! BWARHAR!


	19. My Foundation's One Made of Clay

Chapter 18: My Foundation's One Made Of Clay

Wow, I love great reviews! You guys rock sooo hard! Props to whoever can name the song the chappie title's from. I'll give you a hint – it's an Eric Clapton song. I want to get to 300 reviews soon, so tell your friends to read and review – come on, folks! WE CAN DO IT! …. Or maybe not. I dunno. I sure hope so!

Xxxxxx starts memories and flashbacks now, because sucks.

On with the storrryyyy!

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"I couldn't save her from myself, and now she's going to die… What have I done?!"

Subject T's mind was on fire as he stared down at the fresh blood that was making a puddle beneath his outstretched claws. His eyes were wide in terror, hurt, and anger, and as he watched Lara lose consciousness, it was all he could do to not scream anymore, his teeth sinking into his eely tongue as the scream tried to force itself past his clenched jaws. As badly as he wanted to, he could not form tears behind those deep pools of obsidian, and his head began to throb. It felt much like someone was trying to tear his brain out through his forehead, and much like someone had stabbed him directly in the heart with the sharpest tool imaginable. More memories began to flash into his mind, and as he stared at the thin trickle of blood running from the corner of Lara's mouth, he remembered something, why he cared so much in the first place..

Xxxxxx….. "Welcome, Mr. DeSalvo. My name is Lara. I'm here to introduce you to the facilities and monitor you to ensure your comfort."

Smiling warmly, the redhead took Thomas's hand and shook it gently, ignoring the lingering stare that she knew had landed on her behind when she turned to pick up her clipboard. Turning back to face him, she smirked a little when his gaze quickly returned to her face, and his cheeks reddened.

"Uh, sorry. Got a little dazed for a minute there." He smiled sheepishly, and adjusted his shirt, tugging it down over the waistband of his sweatpants. Wishing deep down that he'd dressed up at least a little more than sweats and a t-shirt, Thomas held out his hand to receive the clipboard that was held out to him, peering down at the paperwork clipped onto it. "What's all this..?"

"Some last-minute unfinished paperwork, just little liability sheets and other useless forms.. It's nothing big." Lara was lying, unbeknownst to Thomas, and bit into her lower lip, a nervous habit not uncommon in most of the staff at Umbrella. Lynette in Finances bit her nails, Jacob in the file room tapped his fingers, and Jeri the receptionist still sucked her thumb! As hard as she'd tried not to, though, Lara was calmly chewing on her lip, and folded her arms as Thomas sighed and flopped into the uncomfortable plastic chair, beginning to fill out his paperwork with a muttered curse. Lara slowly seated herself next to him, trying not to be nosy, and of course, failing. Watching over her shoulder while pretending to closely inspect her fingernails, she watched him fill out his background information, his likes, dislikes, family history, everything else that would be completely useless in what was to come later. These papers were simply a comfort procedure, to make it seem that Umbrella really cared about their 'subjects', as Dr. Ashford called them.

Dr. Richard Ashford. The highest ranking sonofabitch in this whole operation. She didn't know him very well, didn't even know what he looked like, but knew that if she screwed up and let slip what was really about to happen to Thomas that she'd be answering to him, and that that would be one of the most unpleasant experiences of her entire life. Richard was one of the most reputedly horrible men that existed, that he was cold, ruthless, and would kill his best friend if it got him any higher in the 'food chain' of society. He was supposed to be middle aged, and as wealthy as they come, but other than office rumors and parking lot stories, Lara knew nothing of what really went on around Dr. Ashford.

Letting her hands fall into her lap, Lara continued to watch over Thomas's shoulder as he filled in the lengthy forms. This would take another ten or so minutes, she was sure, so she would have plenty of time to get the scoop on who this man really was underneath his cool and semi-perverse exterior. Peering over his shoulder into the 'spare time' box, she almost snickered at the useless information that they gathered in these forms, reading about how he was a 'man-man', liking football, nachos, and drinking until he passed out. Scanning the page a little lower, her mouth dropped open as she came to the part about his wife. The poor man's wife had been killed in a car accident not even a month ago, and Richard had pulled him in hook, line and sinker right away.. Shaking her head sadly at the thought of this man standing at a funeral in a black tuxedo, even possibly crying, she realized how much of a scavenger Dr. Ashford really must be, and felt herself become a little annoyed on the inside.

Anyone who could take a grieving man and turn him into an Umbrella science project without even telling the poor man what was really going to happen was one sick bastard. Stopping herself mid-thought, she realized that she was no better, she going to be the one that held his hand when they made the injections; she being the one to have to tend to his every need as he changed.. That was her job, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not leave it. The pay was more than anyone could ask for, but the price she'd pay for leaving was even greater. The last person who'd tried to leave his top-secret position had wound up dead when his house mysteriously caught fire, and was fully demolished by the horrible blaze. She had a few friends in this job, and her boyfriend at home, though sometimes he got carried away, was supportive of her position. She'd begun to hate him, though, and, much like her job, couldn't find the strength or willpower to make that situation come to an end.

So she kept on with both, despite the countless dying patients and the countless bruises Nick left upon her frailed figure. She'd lost weight recently, too busy trying to take care of Nick rather than herself, and wondered for a brief moment how she'd gotten herself into that in the first place. Shaking it aside, she tried to sober herself up for what she was going to have to do next, this being the hardest part of her job. Glancing to the clipboard, she realized he was on the last form, and bit her lip, motioning discreetly to the two-way glass that was on the opposite side of the tiny white room. The door opened abruptly, and two security guards entered, ready to escort Thomas to what would most likely be his fate. Thomas looked up, more than a little startled, and looked to Lara questioningly. The two men approached slowly, stopping within a few feet of the two, and Thomas's eyes grew wide with fear. Lara took his hand slowly, helping him to his feet. It seemed as though he would try to hide behind the blue-eyed beauty, he being very jumpy and he jolted whenever either of the men made a move to come closer.

"What's this all about?! What the hell is going on here?!"

Lara stared hurtfully at Thomas, who was looking at her like she was his last hope, as though she were meant to be his savior. He realized that at her word, the two men would drag him off, both of them standing with their feet set and jaws clenched. One was a slightly pudgy blonde, the other a tall and lanky brunette man, both looking cold as ice and mean as dogs. They looked to Lara, simply waiting for the redhead to open her mouth and give them the order. Feeling tears well up in her eyes all over again as Thomas slowly stepped further out of sight behind her, she turned to face him, murmuring a faint, "I'm sorry, Thomas.."

Taking this as their chance, Thomas's own eyes filling with burning tears, they grabbed him by either arm, and began to pull him toward the door. Thomas panicked, scrambling to find something to grab onto. Finally, he scrabbled with his fingers at Lara's labcoat, grabbing onto her and pulling her along with them. She was pulled roughly into his arms, and he clung to her, weeping into her shoulder, eyes wide in fear. He was trembling, and shaking hard, the two men still trying to drag him away from her, pry his fingers from her hair and coat. Lara, trying her damndest not to cry, held up a hand, and waved the men towards the door.

Surprised, they released Thomas and backed off a little, and Lara rested her hands on his shoulders weakly, feeling her knees begin to buckle. She hated this part of her job, hated it with a fiery passion, and at that moment wanting nothing more than to walk with the weeping man out the door and lead him home, to where there would be none of the pain that was to come in the room waiting just down the hall. Waving her hand again, she watched through blurred eyes as the men slowly exited, slamming the door in annoyance behind them. Thomas jolted in her arms, clinging tightly to her, one hand wound into her hair, the other arm wrapped about his waist as he clutched her close against him. Feeling her cheeks grow hot as tears trailed down them, Lara did her best to comfort him, knowing it would do no good in the long run.

'It's too late to save him now.. Dr. Ashford's got him in his clutches and now he can't be helped.. All I can do now is make him comfortable..' This coming from the part of her that was so ready to walk out of this job forever, leave it and never come back, the biggest part of her right now, she slowly pulled away from Thomas and put her hands on either side of his face, staring into tear-filled green eyes.

"You have to calm down now, okay?" 'Yeah, this coming from the one who's about to cry, too… Great..', she thought, trying her best to find words of comfort, any at all, and for a moment, failing.

"Are they going to hurt me..? Is they why he wanted me so bad..?"

Knowing fully who 'he' was, Lara hesitated, then slowly nodded. Thomas sobbed once, she buried his face in her neck, his warm tears trickling down an into her blouse. For a moment, time stood still, and Lara felt something swell up in her chest, something like a mother feels for a child who has been bullied by other children at school; a need to protect him.

Softly, she whispered, "I'm going to do my best to get you out of here.. That's a promise."

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Later on..

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Lara held Thomas's hand tightly as the doctor entered the tiny white room; did her best to soothe Thomas's struggles as he fought hard against the straps that held his arms, torso, and legs. He was gagged by a thin strip of white cloth, which did little to muffle his terrified screams. Lara realized that she had failed to help him, and a little part of her died as Dr. Litler pulled a huge, thick needle from a tray, containing a thick, viscous green liquid that bubbled a little when he pressed on the plunger to test the needle. Thomas's eyes were bulging now, and the grip on her hand was painful as he struggled against his restraints.

Slowly, the doctor came closer, and closer, and Thomas's panic grew, his screams growing louder against his gag. Finally, the doctor slid the needle into Thomas's arm, and the burning began almost instantly. It felt as though his insides were on fire, and he began to convulse, eyes rolling up into his head as the stuff made its way through his body. Finally, he lost consciousness, and the doctor sighed as though he'd been expecting more screaming, or something. He nodded to Lara, and she nodded back, slowly, as more tears crept past her eyelids. She'd gotten little sleep recently, thinking about this new patient and all he'd be going through, but didn't realize that he'd be an honest, innocent man with nothing left for him. Many of the patients were fools who thought they'd be getting money, and most of them died in the process. But this man, this one was different somehow. He was special..

Lara held his hand tightly, watching Thomas's eyes open slowly, stared into them as he gazed at her, only half-conscious. His grip on her hand had weakened greatly, and his eyes had begun to turn a blackish, grey color already; and as she watched, his fingernails slowly began to grow. Just a little at a time, but they were growing for sure. Lara and the doctor watched in awe, and the doctor ran out of the room in a hurry to report the results to Dr. Ashford. Lara leaned over Thomas, and brushed her lips across his cheek, murmuring a faint, "I'm so sorry..", before closing her eyes and letting the tears fall.

She had failed him.

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In Shelly's arms, Lara's eyes opened, and she slowly tried to sit up, pressing her hands against her bleeding stomach, then to her bleeding back. The pain she felt was completely blinding, searing, even, and she had to fight hard to keep consciousness all over again. Subject T was leaning over her, staring at her intently, almost concernedly, and Shelly was weeping over her, torn between worry and fear of the huge creature before her. Searching deep within herself, Lara realized that Subject T hadn't hit anything major within her, and felt a little tinge of relief wash over her.

"W-we have to keep moving.. Gotta… get up…"

"No! You're bleeding, child, look at 'chaself!"

"N-no.. gotta.. keep.. moving…"

From somewhere near them, a faint moan echoed through the hallways. Without a second thought, Subject T bent, and carefully hoisted Lara over his shoulder once more. Shelly got to her feet, still terrified, and did her best to follow him as he disappeared around a corner.

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WOW THAT WAS AWESOME I CRIED A LITTLE FOR THOMAS. Now love me or die, bitches.


	20. And All That Jazz

Chapter 19: And All That Jazz

AN: Hello again from La La Land! I hope nobody hurts me for this chapter, but I think it was about time something happened that was depressing and sad and - oh, wait, last chapter took care of that. Well, then this is your chapter for harsh overreacting to something or other. By the way, I KNOW Chicago came out in 2002, and this takes place in '99, but bear with me, because this fits and fits well. So nyeh. Props to those who know the song and actor. Meheheh.

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They wandered for a while in silence, only the buzzing of the air conditioning vents following them through the darkened hallways. The lights flickered from time to time, causing Shelly to jump, and the occasional thump from another floor saw a couple of screams from her. Lara, slumped over Subject T's shoulder, simply stared at the floor, trying to ignore the pain that coursed through her with each step he took, closing her eyes tightly as he began to ascend a staircase. Pain tore through her chest and stomach, and for a moment, she feared she'd lose consciousness to the blinding feeling, vision going red for a brief moment. Happy that she wasn't bleeding to death, Lara gathered all her strength and mumbled to Subject T.

"Stop.. I want to walk on my own."

Subject T slowed for a moment, as if thinking this over, then stopped and, careful of his claws, set her upright upon the next stair above him. She teetered for a moment, then gained her balance, taking a moment to peer down at her stomach in disbelief, the once faded blue vest seeming to be black with the blood that had soaked it through. Shelly stared blankly at the two, still in shock and disbelief at the bond between the large, oafish, sickening creature and the petite little woman called Lara. Her mind spun and whirled as she tried to figure out how and when the two.. well... met and got into cahoots, and came out with nothing but another set of blank stares. Shaking her head a little to clear her confusion, she followed after the two as they continued to carefully and quietly made their way up the dimly lit staircase.

Shelly's mind had other places to wander, but only one thing managed to creep its way back into her mind; something she'd hoped she could ignore until she was out of this hellhole and back home with her husband. Her husband, that was the cause of all this worry and anguish. She knew he hadn't meant to worry her; he'd never want to do that (she was paranoid enough as it was), but he'd succeeded with flying colors this time, and there was no taking it back. Sending her mind back to the last phone call from her husband, she remembered hoe frantic he'd sounded, how little and timid, his usually deep voice reduced to a hushed tone that scared her deep on the inside. He'd called, and seemed so.. blank, so... empty..

"Honey... uh... how's work?"

"It's fine, Nathan. I'm a little on the busy side, what's up?"

"Uh... Shelly... the kids.."

At this point, he'd broken down, and she could hear him sob a couple times, then take a deep, sloppy-sounding breath to try and calm himself. She'd begun to worry then, her chest tightening, her stomach churning itself into tiny little knots, all with butterflies tangled in them; like it were a net.

"What... about the kids...?"

A long pause.

"They... I..."

Another long pause.

"What about them, Nathan!"

Pause.

"They've been k-"

The lights flickered, and the phone went dead. That was when the alarm sounded; when she'd tried to escape and found herself face to face with a huge, skinless cat-beast, surely out for her blood. That was when her worries changed from her children to the need to simply stay alive. Wringing her hands, Shelly thought of every possible word that started with 'k' that would apply in a situation like this. All she could come up with were two, sick, sad words that wrenched her heart and brought more tears to her eyes.

(kidnapped)

(...killed...)

The words rung over and over in her mind, and it was all she could do to stop herself from bursting into tears right then and there. She stopped for a moment and stared up the stairs after the great beast and Lara, watching the thing help her slowly ascend the staircase, gently leading her along as though he were...human. It sickened her that Lara could become so close to such a thing, and that such a thing was not following along with the rest of its kind's example: to be a cold, ruthless killing machine.

Subject T knew exactly where he was going: back to the medical wing. He wanted to help Lara (he'd since stopped referring to her as his mate); didn't want her to die, not yet, at least.. Neither he nor she was going to die in this hellish place, he told himself repeatedly, and by now had half begun to believe it, what with the sudden lack of zombie activity in the place. Had the infection finally killed them all? And what had become of that great tentacled beast? He didn't really want to know the answer to that, so he left it hanging in his mind, and as they reached the top of the staircase (and approached one of the three medical bays), he turned to make sure the other woman was still behind them. She was, and had become shakier than before, wringing her hands and looking about herself nervously.

Shrugging a little to himself, Subject T nudged the wobbly Lara toward the door with the back of his hand. She turned to look up at him, her glazed eyes hinting at the fact that she was in tremendous pain. He could clearly see where his claws had run themselves through her chest and stomach, just barely missing anything important, he'd later find out. Lara pushed upon the door, and found that it was unlocked, even partly open already. Closing her eyes tightly, afraid to see what was inside; she backed away slowly, letting Subject T be the first to traverse the unknown horror that was in the enclosed medic station.

The second the door swung open, a dry moan resounded through the hallway and down the staircase, sending chills down the spines of the two women and bringing a growl from Subject T's throat. A gun lay in plain sight of the door, covered in nearly dried blood. Looking up quickly, Subject T saw a tall, bald man shambling towards him, arms outstretched, mouth hanging open as if his jaw were broken. His tongue was missing, apparently ripped out by a pair of roving hands, and there were three bullet holes in his chest. Subject T, with one swipe of his claws, easily beheaded the man, watching him drop heavily to the floor, and blood spill all about him. Shelly covered her mouth with one hand, doing her best not to vomit, and Lara, nearly used to the sight of Subject T killing things (or just too out of it to care), simply turned her head away, swallowing hard.

In one corner, there was a series of limbs; these being an arm, and a leg, from the knee down. Subject T slowly made his way to peer around the desk that blocked his view, and uttered a hiss when he saw whom the limbs belonged to.

The man that had injected him so many times with that horrid virus; the man who aided in his horrible suffering was lying, sprawled out against the wall like a rag doll, his left arm and right lower leg torn clean from his body, tiny tendons leaving streaks of blood upon the floor. He had long since bled to death, and his dead man's gaze was locked onto the ceiling, as though he was looking to God for help. There had been no help, though, and for that, Subject T was thankful. It was merely one less person he'd have to hunt down later; he decided.

Trying his best to shy Lara away from the corner, Subject T pointed with a wicked claw to a thin table, and growled at the whimpering Shelly, trying to get the woman to help Lara onto it. Shelly got the message, and took Lara's arm gently, helping to hoist her onto the cold steel table, Lara groaning softly all the way. Shelly, finally taking charge of the situation, warily shooed Subject T away, to another corner, and began to dig through cabinets and drawers for a needle and thread. After a minute of searching, she emerged ruffled and triumphant, holding a spool of thread and a needle.

Slowly, the unzipped Lara's vest, ignoring the fact that there were bare breasts beneath, and laid it aside. Lara, too far gone to be embarrassed, simply laid back and stared at the ceiling, taking slow, deep breaths, knowing what was coming next. Shelly threaded the needle slowly and carefully, and slowly, her hand came closer to Lara's stomach. Lara's breath caught in her throat as she felt the needle pierce her opened flesh, and she ground her teeth together to keep from screaming as Shelly began to close her wounds. Slowly in, through, out. In, through, out. Shelly slowly sewed each of the deep gashed closed, as best she could, and after about half an hour and much frustration (because Lara wasn't done bleeding), she had finished, and reached for the bottle of peroxide she'd found.

"Baby girl, this is gonna hurt like hell.. You ready?" She waved the bottle, to show Lara what she meant, and Lara nodded slowly, clutching the sides of the table and clenching her jaw. Shelly slowly poured the bottle over Lara's wounds, and Lara screamed against her lips, writhing and scooting all about the table as the peroxide bubbled and oozed, cleansing her stomach and chest. Shelly glanced around, looking for paper towels, or napkins, or anything of the sort, reaching up with one arm to wipe away the sweat that beaded her brow and ran down her face. Finally, she just took off her suit jacket, and began to wipe away the mix of peroxide and blood, revealing Lara's pallid skin beneath the grime. Not noticing the half hungry, half worried stares Subject T was giving them, Shelly opened the nearest drawer, and began to dig for scrubs, trying her damndest and finally finding a blue shirt. Slowly, she made her way back over to Lara's side, and helped her into a sitting position.

"Now, put this on.. We gotta keep moving, honey, I know you don't want.. them.. to find us, do you?"

Lara groggily shook her head, and rubbed at her eyes, still wincing a bit as the remaining bits of peroxide bubbled away at the insides of her gashes. She DIDN'T want the zombies to find them, that was for sure, so she happily accepted the shirt, put it on, and got to her feet, slowly, so as not to lose her balance. She felt a little better now, now that she wasn't bleeding all over the place, and she pointed to the door. Subject T nodded, and led the way, turning the corner around the door, and beginning to head down the hallway. Shelly stooped carefully to pick up the gun, clutching it close to her chest and immediately feeling a little bit safer. She knew very little about how to use a gun, so she held it out to Lara, smiling weakly.

"T-thanks, Shelly..."

"It was nothin', baby."

Lara smiled faintly, a little ghost of a smile, accepted the gun from Shelly, and the two slowly followed after Subject T, only halting when a pair of moans echoed about them. Subject T had stopped in his tracks, about to swipe at something, and Lara peered around him to see what it was.

A pair of black children, looking to be anywhere from eight to ten years old, was shambling towards them. Shelly peered around the other side, and began to scream; scream as loud as she could, and she fell to her knees right there in the hallway, staring at the pair of boys that she once knew so well.

One was missing his lower jaw, his tongue lolling loosely in the air, flopping against his neck and waggling about at random intervals. The other was missing both his arms, and so had horrible balance, stumbling about and running into the walls, more often the closer they came. Both were drenched in their own blood, and both had the glazed, horribly hungry eyes of the dead that they'd seen so many times before. Lara's mouth dropped open in horrid realization, and she tugged at Subject T's arm before he could swipe, looking back at Shelly and hearing her scream, watching her cover her mouth with her hands.

Everything seemed to be in slow motion to Lara, who turned to stare at the children, then turned to look helplessly at Shelly, who was slowly shaking her head and still screaming, yammering, crying, and praying all at once. Lara's head snapped back to the right as she felt something brush her arm. She lashed out with one foot; tripping the child with arms and sending him face first onto the floor. Jumping back a couple feet, Lara stared, clueless, at the boy, who was crawling toward her, his lookalike still ambling toward them, several feet away. Subject T, not knowing what to do, thrust one hand out, sending a pair of claws into the armless boy's head, and howled in annoyance as he remained stuck to his claws. Shaking his hand, he twisted the head from the boy's shoulders with one quick twist, sending the head flying down the hallway. The boy's body thudded to the floor, and Subject T turned to stare at Shelly, who had become as white as a ghost, her eyes bulging from their sockets, her screams tapering off to terrified and anguished whimpers.

The other boy crawled closer to Lara, and wrapped one bloody hand around her denim-clad ankle. Lara bit at her lip, mind still slowing time down, and slowly leveled the gun at the boy's head. He slowly raised his head to stare into her eyes, hissing at her.

Lara pulled the trigger, and the back of the boy's head exploded outward. Lara quickly turned her head, finding Shelly diving at her, tackling her down into a pool of her own sons' blood. Shelly tried to wrestle the gun from Lara, and Lara didn't fight much, a song from a movie suddenly repeating itself in her mind.

(oh yes oh yes oh yes oh yes they both oh yes they both reached for the gun the gun the gun)

Lara struggled now, trying to free the gun from Shelly's grasp, but by then it was too late, and the gun was pressed right into her forehead.

(they both reached for the gun for the gun)

"How could you, you bitch! HOW COULD YOU SHOOT MY BABY! HUH! FUCKING BITCH!" The last part was muffled, because Shelly began to sob. Lara's mouth hung open in shock, her arms limp at her sides.

(both reached for the gun)

"I FUCKING HELPED YOU AND THIS IS WHAT YOU DO TO ME!"

Subject T was too afraid to move, afraid the psychotic woman would flinch, and pull the trigger, so he simply stared, flexing his claws and hoping that this would get no worse.

(oh yes)

After another moment, Shelly shakily turned her hands, turned the gun to point at her own head. Slowly, she inserted the barrel of the gun into her mouth, and stared for a long moment at Lara.

(reached for the gun)

Lara reached out to try and grab the gun, but by then it was too late. Shelly pulled the trigger, and the back of her head was simply no more. Lara's face was splattered with her comrade's blood, and she began to gag all over again, as she watched Shelly's body fall to the floor in slow motion, and lay twitching upon the floor. Lara stumbled and fell to her knees, staring blankly at Shelly's fallen corpse.

(the gun)

Lara began to cry.

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Sad, isn't it? Review and I give cookies. Don't review and I cry like a schoolgirl on crack. So, review! ...Please?


	21. Your Education XRay

Chapter 20: Your Education X-Ray

It's me again! Yay for updates! Boo for short ones, but I thought this looked good short, so I left it that way. The next chapter is soon to come, though! Props for those who know what song this is from. Maybe I'll write you in as a zombie? Maybe? Yes?

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Richard awoke in near darkness, groaning to himself as his head continued to throb and ache. The only light that made itself noticeable in the little room was from a computer console several feet before him, but even this was blocked by a shadowy figure, looking like it had its hands on its hips. Groaning again and making an attempt to reach for his pounding head, Richard found that his hands were bound to the chair he sat in, and his eyes widened in shock and horror as he realized his lags were also bound, his heart beginning to pound and his palms begninning to sweat.

The figure chuckled, as though knowing, even in darkness, that he had come to the realization that he was plainly stuck, and stepped closer, his face mere inches from Richard's. Richard squinted, feeling the hot breath upon his face, and growled, unable to clearly see the face before him. Giggling again, the man stood upright, surveying his prisoner and feeling pride well up in his chest. His boss would be so proud of him, were he to be seen now.

"Who the FUCK are you!" Richard demanded, struggling against his bindings in vain, squinting into the darkness only to again see the shadowy figure looming over him.

"A friend, good sir. A friend." This encited another barrage of giggles from the man, who was obviously highly amused by all of this, and he reached down and patted Richard's cheek. Richard flinched away from the touch and did his best to aim a nice wad of spit at the man's face, obviously succeeding when the man gasped, growled, and struck his right cheek with the palm of his hand. Richard hissed and struggled again, wishing he could just get one hand free..

"A friend who's sick of your bullshit, Mr. Ashford. A friend who's had enough of the horrible things you do; all the people you hurt. She still blames you, you know, Richard."

"...Who?" Richard's anger melted into pure confusion as he listened to the man's tyrade, his voice rising with each syllable.

"You KNOW who, you flaming asshole, you KNOW! You're going to pay dearly for all the pain you've caused her, and I'm going to stand by and laugh as you die."

"What the fuck are you talking about!"

"You'll see soon enough, dear Mr. Ashford.."

With the opening and closing of a door, Richard was left alone in darkness once again.

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Hooray for plot development... Now, I wonder who this unknown's 'boss' is..? Review and maybe you'll find out!


	22. No Man's Land

Chapter 21: No Man's Land

Hoyes, another chapter from my brilliant yet slow miiiiiind.. : Waggles fingers. : In any case, this is another somewhat song chapter, with just a couple of lyrics from Evanescence that I thought fit in, so please, bear with my stupidity. The story is finally coming to a close within another several chapters, so review and give me the love and inspiration I need, yadda yadda, to finish! Yay!

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Lara continued to weep for some time, simply shaking her head side to side and keeping her face buried in her hands. She had finally met her breaking point, sick and tired of it all, and had been reduced to nothing more than a broken wreck, everything she had seen, heard, and experienced having overwhelmed her senses. All she could do was cry, thoughts of the gruesome things she'd seen flashing through her mind like a slideshow, a horrifyingly grotesque one at that, and she trembled and shook as the final images came to her mind; those of Shelly's last moments on Earth. She had, so she thought, done nothing to be able to stop Shelly from doing what she had done, and felt sick on the inside; felt responsible for the pain that caused the older woman to take her own life. After a few minutes, her sobs tapered off into whimpers, but she still stayed hidden behind her hands, even after going silent.

Subject T stared at Lara for a long while, her sobs tearing away at his insides, but did nothing, fearing he would end up making things worse. He was in no state to be helping anyone, being the sickening creature that he had become. So all he did was watch her from a safe distance, shifting his eyes once in a while to the crumpled family that lay in the middle of the hallway; feeling just as sick as Lara on the inside, shifting uncomfortably in the resounding silence that consumed them.

Finally, Lara forced herself to her feet, and stared blankly at Subject T for a long moment, her eyes glazed over either in thought or in pain, the frantic reach for the gun having nearly torn open her stitches. All she wanted now was to go home. She didn't care that Subject T had raped her. She didn't care that Richard was a bastard and had nearly killed her. She didn't care about the zombies, the lickers, the cat-beasts, or even the horrible tentacled creature that was still on the loose somewhere. She wanted to go home, take a long, hot shower, and lay in her own bed and never get back up; to just be safe and warm under the covers forever.

But she knew this was close to impossible; not without risking life and limb; and this being something she was very sick and tired of doing. She knew, though, that she couldn't afford to give up; not yet, at least, and forced a wry smile toward Subject T.

"If we're gonna go on any farther, I need food and water so I don't keel over."

Subject T nodded slowly and gestured to her with one hand, indicating that she should lead the way. Lara, knowing that there was a kitchen on the floor above them, stepped over the threesome of bodies, not daring to look down until she was halfway down the hall. She stopped, took a deep breath, and realized that a very valuable asset was lying behind her, and slowly turned to look back at her fallen comrade. Feeling her stomach turn as she took in the sight of Shelly, lying there with the back of her head missing; as well as the two mutilated boys, Lara slowly crept back to Shelly's side; as though she thought they might wake up at any moment. Slowly, she leaned over and shakily extended one hand, reaching down to pluck the gun from Shelly's cold, lifeless fingers. Finding that Shelly, even in death, favored the gun, Lara used both hands to pry the gun from her fingers, then backed away slowly, breath catching in her throat as the smell that she thought she was so used to by now overtook her, her eyes beginning to water and her stomach twisting itself into knots.

After a moment, the horrible sickness passed, and Lara turned back to face the empty hallway, staring for a long moment, simply to reassure herself that it was empty. Unfortunately for the pair, it was not fully empty, a trio of zombies stumbling and ambling towards them. All were men, and each were missing various limbs and appendages. The one that sickened Lara the most, though, was a man whose left cheek had been torn away, revealing the glitter of ivory bone beneath, what remained of his cheek hanging limply by a few tendons and flopping wetly against his neck. Lara swallowed hard, and raised the gun, leveling it at the nearest man's forehead. Before she could fire, though, Subject T stepped forward and swiped with one powerful hand, easily removing the man's head. Lara turned her head quickly, not wanting to see yet another head roll, listening as Subject T took care of the other two men quickly and effortlessly.

Slowly she turned her head forward, and grimaced upon seeing the three headless bodies. 'Well, what were you expecting? Three normal people to appear?' Snorting a little in disgust with herself, Lara made a bounding leap over the triad of fallen bodies and continued down the hallway briskly, slowing only when she came to a familiar three-way intersection. The left would lead to the stairway, the right, to the elevator, and straight ahead, a darkened hallway that didn't look too appealing. Debating on whether or not to see if the elevators still functioned, Lara bit into her lower lip and chewed thoughtfully for a long moment, not even jolting when Subject T came up behind her, breathing down her neck.

After an eternity of pure, agonizing silence, Lara finally turned towards the staircase, not wanting to take the chance that the elevators would be stuck, or that there would be another throng of zombies waiting for them in the elevators. They ventured down the empty hallway towards the staircase, through the endless puddles of blood and strewn body parts, until they finally reached a large, darkened uprise. Lara turned back to Subject T and smiled faintly, sidestepping and motioning nervously to the staircase.

"You go first.. Okay?"

Subject T nodded and began to lumber up the stairs, keeping a slow but steady pace that he was sure Lara could keep up with, listening past their footsteps and into the flickering, ominous darkness that consumed them the further they went. Lara turned to stare behind her every few seconds, to be sure that there was nothing and nobody behind them, only to each time find nothing but the comforting light that they had left behind. The closer they came to the top, though, the close they got to a faint rumbling, growling noise that turned Lara's stomach all over again, sickening her with fear and anxiety.

Suddenly, though, an unseen figure leapt from seemingly nowhere and tackled Lara, sending her and the thing that caught her off guard tumbling all the way back down the stairs. Lara screamed all the way down, feeling her shoulders and elbows and knees and forehead get battered repeatedly by each stair as she fell, the final three stairs sending her nose, her left knee, and her right ankle into screaming pain. She landed flat on her back, with the thing on top of her, though now that she was back in the light, it was to be seen as another of the skinless, horrible cat creatures. It bared its fangs at her hungrily, roaring and sending a hot wave of sticky, sour breath right up her nostrils, and she took a deep breath and began to scream again, pushing her hand and the gun up into the cat's neck and trying to force it off of her as it struggled to sink its wicked canines into her throat. Lara's nose was all but gushing blood, only further fueling the cat's hunger, and it pawed at her chest, trying to gain some kind of leverage above her, not even seeing the large, muscular thing that flew at him from the side.

A set of wicked claws interrupted the kitty's next angry roar, jamming right into its side and sending the cat, along with the furious Subject T, flying into the nearest wall. The cat yowled in pain and fury, and struggled to its feet, a greenish black substance that could have been nothing other than its blood gushing and ozzing from its flank and ribs. Subject T snarled at it, half-human, half animal sounds echoing from his throat and resounding in the empty hallways around them.

Lara rolled over onto her stomach quickly, and pushed herself to her feet, cursing up a storm as she found herself covered in blood once again. Narrowing her eyes at the cat, who was trying to edge around Subject T to get back to her, she raised the gun as it prepared to pounce. It sailed through the air towards her, flawless in its sleek figure, yellow-black eyes slitted and focused upon her jugular. Lara smirked, and mumbled something to the cat, aiming for its forehead.

"Bad kitty."

She fired, and her aim was true, the back of the kitty's head exploding outward, the leap falling short, and the body skidding to a halt just inches from Lara's feet. Subject T stared at the panting Lara for a moment, watching the blood pour from her nose and drip from her forehead where she'd skinned it on her way down. Stumbling for a moment as dizziness overtook her, Lara leaned against the wall for a moment, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. Her head was pounding, as though someone were trying to beat it in, and her eyes filled to the brim with tears, which made their way down her cheeks to mingle and mix with her blood to make a thin, salty mixture that began a little pool directly beneath her. Subject T stepped around the cat and leaned over next to her, staring down into her pained, frightened blue eyes. He hated to see her, let alone anyone, like this, and wished he had some way to comfort her. He knew, though, that nobody would want comfort from an ugly, massive beast, and stepped away just as silently as he'd come forth, staring at Lara from a safe distance and feeling his heart tear itself apart inside.

"We... we need to go..." Lara finally mumbled, wiping the back of her arm across her face to rid herself of as much of the blood as she could. Shaking her arm about in disgust as she saw just how much she was bleeding, Lara snurfed back the blood, trying to swallow it, giving up, and spitting a few times to her left, coughing and choking for a brief moment due to the coppery, thick taste. Subject T pondered for a moment, then held out an arm to Lara, wanting to carry her the rest of the way. She stared at him for a moment, sniffled again, spat, and then shook her head.

"I have to be able to show you the way. I can't do that upside-down."

Subject T shrugged a little, then started up the stairs again, a little taken aback by the fact that she still wanted to walk on her own. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw her limp after him, shifting most of her weight to her left ankle. He snorted a little, but continued up the staircase, until finally, they reached the top. This time, though, a door blocked their path, and Lara edged around Subject T to open it, remembering a strategy that she'd used some time ago, and threw open the door, hearing a pair of groans and an almost matching pair of thuds as the pair of zombies behind the kitchen door fell to the floor. Edging through the tiny crack in the door, Lara quickly dispersed the zombies with a pair of gunshots. They each fell back to the floor with a final grunt, and after a moment, Subject T emerged from the staircase, allowing the door to slam shut behind them. Lara stared at the gun for a long moment, hating the fact that she had to do all of this, resisting the urge to throw the gun back down the stairs.

She knew that she'd run out of ammunition soon, so another stop they'd have to make was to the armory. She also knew Subject T could easily break down the door, so there'd be no problem getting in, getting out, and finding a way out of this hell hole once and for all. But first, she wanted food, water, and sleep, and she could get all of that right here, or so she hoped.

Glancing about to make sure the small kitchen was clear, Lara sighed in relief, and slumped over against the nearest countertop, taking several deep breaths to still her pounding heart and turning her head to watch Subject T. He stared right back at her, into her eyes, a little flicker of green now coming back into his blackened orbs, his resurfacing humanity more present in everything he did. The way he stood, the way he walked, the way he tried to talk, all showed that the X-Virus was dying within him, and for that, Lara was very glad. She knew he was more man than beast now, and seemed much more willing to be close to him than she had before. Her terror surrounding him was gone, her fear, evaporated.

Lara pointed to the sealed pantry, a heavy, steel door that she knew would hold until they decided to leave and head for the armory. "We have to hide out in there for a bit. It'll be cramped, but I think we can manage. There should be food and water and I'm sure I can find a blanket or two.. If I don't get some sleep sometime soon, I'll lose my fucking mind."

Subject T nodded, not so much in agreement as understanding, and watched Lara pull the heavy door open to reveal a small, rectangular room, with all kinds of high shelves, and in one corner, a case of bottled water, in case of emergency. Lara searched for a while, and finally came up with a single blanket from the emergency box under one of the five sinks. Mindful of the shelves above her, Lara ushered Subject T into the far corner of the little pantry, and closed the door behind them, watching him carefully seat himself. She smiled a little at the absurdity of the whole situation, shaking her head and trying to clear the dizzininess that threatened to creep its way back into her skull, but finding herself a failure and having to stumble to sit next to Subject T. She glanced up, and upon seeing a box of cereal, greedily grabbed for it and ripped it open.

She began to eat, quickly and like a starving child at first, then slowed down, eating until she thought she might burst, only then stopping. Unaware of the skeptical look Subject T was giving her as she nearly made herself sick, Lara began to drink from a bottle of water, until that, too, filled her stomach. Panting, Lara closed her eyes, feeling more refreshed than she had in a long, long time, and leaned back against the wall, feeling the dizziness come back once more to overtake her. She groaned softly, and slumped over into Subject T, who seemed a little alarmed, then, remembering the pair of head injuries she'd suffered, realized that she was probably very near unconsciousness by now.

Lara's eyes opened, her vision blurred, and all kinds of thoughts swam in her head as she watched Subject T carefully and gently pulled the blanket over her.

(i'm going under)

Her eyes slid shut, and for a long moment stayed that way, at least until she felt Subject T wrap a strong arm around her shoulders and pull her closer to him. Her eyes snapped open, then slid halfway shut as she felt his warmth close against her.

(i've got to break through)

(i'm so far away)

Her eyes closed to slits now, and she for a fleeting moment found herself enjoying the closeness of their bodies, the sharing of the warmth in the chilly pantry, and she knew that it was wrong, but at the same time, it felt so.. right.

(i've got to break through)

(defeated by you)

Her eyes closed fully, and she nuzzled her cheek against Subject T's warm, meaty chest, the sliminess that was once there no more, only a thick, leathery feeling against her face. The knowledge that this was so very wrong had forced itself far away, in the back of her mind until she could no longer hear it. She didn't want to sleep, all she wanted was to feel this safe forever, a little smile plastering itself upon her lips and staying there for a long moment, even as her head began to swim, sleep trying to overtake her.

(i'm going under)

(drowning in you)

She could feel Subject T's breathing beneath her head, the slow rising and falling of his chest, the little rumble of a growl he made when he breathed, feel his hot breath on her forehead, which didn't sting so much anymore..

(i'm going)

She didn't want to surrender to sleep, but the warmth and the slow motion of Subject T's breathing slowly coaxed her towards sleep, and she left her eyes closed this time. Feeling Subject T's other arm wrap itself around her was more than enough for her, and she fell into a deep, sound slumber as Subject T held her close.

(under)

Somewhere in the distance, Richard Ashford began to scream.

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Aww, how cuuuuuuute. Snuggles and luffles for Lara. How special, hmm? Review and tell me what you think. I loves writing teh snuggles, and I don't get to do it very often, so this was a little treat for me, as well as you guys. Luffles and snuggles for all: Starts passing out Subject T clones. : Whee!


	23. Slither Like The Serpent

Chapter 22: Slither (I've Seen Better Days)

No, I did not die. I just got busy. But because I love you, I have UPDATED! HA! This will kick your ass and make you cry. :)

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Lara slowly opened her eyes, immediately feeling a horrible numbness as well as pins and needles in her legs and feet. She groaned softly, closing her eyes once again, and felt something stir beneath her cheek. Opening one eye lazily, she jumped a little as she saw Subject T staring down at her through glossy black eyes. Heart pounding and blood rushing to her face in a slight blush, she sat bolt upright, eyes wide in shock as she realized that she was cradled in Subject T's arms like a child. Careful not to let his wicked claws cut her, she forced herself to her feet, despite her body's cries for more sleep. Her head swam and she swooned a little, thrusting one hand out to catch herself as she nearly fell over, pins and needles fully consuming her legs and feet and causing her to wince in irritation and confusion. Appalled at the fact that she'd fallen asleep so close to Subject T, she shivered a little as she remembered the leathery feeling of his skin against her own; the way his chest rose and fell nearly in time with hers.

She bit into her lower lip as her senses came back to her fully, and the feeling of pins and needles slowly but surely began to seep away as she stared down into the seemingly soulful black orbs that belonged to Subject T. For the longest moment she stared, helpless, into his deep pits, feeling her iron composure that she'd held for so long begin to slip away. She took a deep breath through her nose, then sighed deeply, averting her gaze so as not to be drawn in by his longing stare once more, and leaned close to the door to the tiny pantry to listen to their surroundings, just to be sure it really was just the two of them. Deciding to use her old trick, she slowly turned the handle, trying her hardest not to let it squeak, then threw it open with all her might, a split second too late realizing that she hadn't thought to arm herself with the gun. Luckily for her, though, the door flew open without obstruction, and she had to drag herself across the floor for several inches just to keep it from hitting the wall. Her shoes dragging just enough on the tile that she herself didn't slam into the door, Lara found herself clinging to the handle to keep from toppling backwards as the door finally came to a stop. She took a deep, relieved breath and turned back to Subject T, grinning wryly and wringing her cold hands so she could fully regain feeling. After the pins and needles faded into nothingness, she turned back to the pantry and groped for the gun, which had fallen between a couple of boxes of cereal, and upon finding it, brought it to her lips and kissed it as though it were the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen. After all, this gun was her lifesaver, and most likely would remain such until she got out of this God-forsaken hellhole. That is, if she ever did...

Shaking her head a bit to clear that ever-present thought, she turned her head to Subject T and nodded her readiness over her shoulder, waving the gun so he'd follow. Walking quietly so as not to let the heavy boots she wore give her footsteps away, she skirted the mini-island in the middle of the not-so-expansive kitchen and headed for the door they had not opted to open when they entered. It was still closed, but thankfully not locked, so when Lara turned and pulled the handle, it opened without struggle, the hinges making the tiniest squeak before silencing themselves and allowing the heavy steel door to open without further audible protest. Lara quickly leveled the gun straight in front of her, and found herself face-to-face with nothing but an empty expanse of ugly hallway, which didn't seem to make Lara feel any better as her mind processed the place said hallway lead to. She turned to look back at Subject T, paler than ever, blue eyes wide. He turned his head questioningly, obviously confused. Lara stuttered incoherently for a moment, swallowed, took a deep breath, and spoke, quietly and shakily.

"This is the hallway in Sector 4... Meaning... fourth floor, rooms 1A through 8A... of..." She broke off as a shudder tore through her, her stomach turning as the smell finally hit her; the stick of death and decay that seemed more offensive than it had anywhere else in the entire complex. Having to swallow hard repeatedly to keep her stomach from emptying itself (again) in a projectile fashion upon the floor, she stared through frightened eyes at the ceiling as though praying; while actually just trying to keep from screaming. Subject T took a step closer, and Lara waved him off, straightening slowly after a moment and taking another deep breath (this time, through her mouth).

"The morgue; and the 'unfinished projects' lab.. Where they keep all the failed experiments that they didn't want to kill for safekeeping... Dear God, I can't even imagine what's in here..." Lara gnawed her lower lip nervously, shifting her gaze here and there as she pondered on whether or not she really wanted to continue this way. Unfortunately, this set of hallways led to the Sector 3 back stairwell, which led to the armory, and also led to the emergency elevators (which ran on backup generators, so she hoped with all her being that they were still functioning). The power outage, though, meant that the securely contained creatures that were squirreled away back here could very well have escaped, and could just as well be roaming the hallways looking for a fresh meal. The reanimated corpses of her coworkers that had given their lives doing their jobs; whose families (assuming they had such) were never able to give them proper burials because Umbrella didn't want to risk releasing their bodies for fear of some form or another of contamination; those were bad enough, because those were people she saw every day. Those were people she waved to from across the hall, people she shared stories with about this-and-that, totally useless shit that was only used to pass the time, but they were the people she had to pass time with, and she realized when her eyes filled with tears that she missed them. She missed all of them, the assholes upstairs and the bitches at the reception desk; bitches as they were, she still missed them.

She realized with bitter passion that what her father had always told her was most certainly true. 'You never know how much yer gonna miss somethin' 'til it's long gone, and you're looking at the southern end of THAT northbound horse.' Lara lashed out with a foot at the wall, too frustrated and aggravated to care much about the pain that shot up her already sore foot and ankle. She was tired, angry, and most certainly not ready to deal with whatever abominations lurked within the halls ahead. Not even in the depths of her wildest dreams or nightmares could she even begin to call up images of what might compose the occupants of the next sections of lab space. And honestly, she'd very much have preferred not to even try. No, sir, no deal. Nodding her head in agreement, she turned in a circle in place, arguing with herself inside her head. Two voices bickered back and forth, each one giving a fair argument but getting nowhere. One, that little nagging voice that had been there ever since she first woke up after her lovely KO courtesy of Mr. Countertop, spoke with the same sort of calm and condescending tone that her father had; the other was terrified and stammering. Both, though, spoke with her own voice, and both gave pretty good arguments.

'Haul ass, already! Christ, all you do is stand around and shake like a wet puppy in the fucking rain! God, you've already shot several **dozen** dead people; what difference is a few mutated blobs gonna make?'

The other voice chimed in right away, stuttering, broken, and faint, and Lara had to stop her frantic pacing to be able to fully pay attention.

'N-no! We have to g-g-get away fruh-fruh-from here! We'll buh-both die! Even if he (it, the other voice inserted, but the frightened one hardly noticed) is a huge s-s-suh-son-of-a-bitch, you know we'll both get tuh-tuh-torn to sh-shreds!'

The voice of doubt had a point, Lara mused vaguely, but the voice of condescending reason came back right away with a highly valid point of its own:

'You'll both fucking die anyway if you just sit here. It's true. Anything lurking around here will smell you, and they'll all come flocking this way like sharks. Either get your asses in gear and give yourselves a chance, or sit here with your thumbs up your asses and wait to die.'

When the voice of doubt tried to whine further, Lara silenced it within herself by muttering curses at it out loud. After all, considering the absurdity of the entire situation altogether, what was a little mumbling between voices in one's head? 'No! No no no no no no!' This voice, her own voice again, but this time, one she could control perfectly. While it repeated itself over and over again in her mind, her lips moved in time, as though she were lip-synching like some bozo at a hokey-karaoke bar.

Subject T stared at her, positively clueless, watching her mumble incoherently under her breath and finding that he didn't much care. All that mattered now was that they get the hell out of here (the sooner the better, though, that was for damn sure). Yet he made no move to gather Lara's attention, simply stood and stared through lightening eyes at what was obviously a train about to derail. Hardly noticing the fact that she was being closely watched, Lara clutched both sides of her head as best she could while holding the gun, sifting through the squabbling voices that continued to intensify. 'I refuse to lose my fucking mind down here! No way in HELL will I let that happen.'

She turned to Subject T and dropped her hands to her sides, looking him squarely in the eyes.

"Let's go, before I lose my fucking nerve."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Subject T wished he could smile.

Shakily, Lara turned back towards the corner they meant to turn next, and before the voices could protest any further, she strode forward, and stopped right in the middle of the intersection, closing her eyes tightly and holding her breath, half expecting to be tackled by another vicious feline, or something even worse. Five seconds passed, and then another ten, with only Subject T's heavy breathing and her own beating heart echoing in the empty hallway. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and much to her surprise, she saw nothing, and let out her breath in a half-gasp, half-laugh that hardly sounded like her own. Turning to Subject T, she smiled sheepishly, and wiped at her forehead with the back of her hand, momentarily enjoying the cool feeling of the gun as it brushed her skin.

"Shit, I don't know what I was so-."

From somewhere above her came a thick, oozing thing that looked like a slime-coated length of rope. She broke from her sentence to scream shrilly in horror when it wrapped itself around her left wrist, and as she started to try to wrench it free, the tip expanded like a balloon and flattened out. It wavered for a moment, and just before Lara could twist her arm from its grip, it jerked forward and plastered itself to her hand. It grew quickly, and enveloped her entire hand, gun and all, and she screamed again as tiny, needle-like barbs dug into her flesh, and through the thin membrane of bumpy tissue, she could see blood slowly beginning to bubble up. Subject T snarled, and started forward, stopped when another tentacle shot down from the ceiling and whipped across the side of his head, sending him flying sideways into the wall with a sick crunch. He yowled in anger, wrenching himself from the crevice his body had made upon impact, only to be thrown backward again with a swift lash to the chest.

Lara struggled helplessly, dragging her heels and clawing frantically at the membrane that dug into her hand, stinging tears blurring her vision as she felt it expand and contract, in essence, sucking upon her hand. She screamed again, this time, for Subject T. He pushed himself to his feet as quickly as he could, and this time, before the tentacle could lay him out again, he swiped at it with his claws, severing it. It not just oozed, but sprayed, thick, blue-black goop everywhere, and Subject T was momentarily blinded when some flew into his wide-open eyes.

"Subject T! Oh, God, please, help me!" Another tentacle emerged from the darkness above and snaked its way around Lara's throat, the end expanding just enough to cover her mouth. Trying her hardest to rip it away with her free hand, she felt her rapidly beating heart sink in her chest. 'I'm going to die. It's going to tear me apart, and I'm going to die..' Two more of the slimy retractiles shot down, the thinner of the two prying her right hand away from its comrade; the thicker securing itself around her waist and yanking her up from the floor. In each of the places the tentacles touched bare flesh, the little spines tore tiny holes, and Lara screamed, muffled, into the gooey thing that securely covered her mouth.

Subject T, through a blue haze, could see Lara rising from the floor, flailing and screaming, and a rush of anger swelled up within him. Breaking into a run, he swung madly at the offending tentacles, managing to free one of her arms, but before he could slice the rest, she was jerked up and into the beams overhead. Snarling and frothing, he leapt as high as he could and wrapped a hand around one of Lara's legs as carefully as he could manage before she vanished from sight. Another scream echoed through the hallway when both Lara and the beast the tentacles belonged to tumbled from the rafters and onto the floor. Lara, panicking, scrabbled on the cold cement with all her might, ripping three of her nails down to the quick and crying out in a mix of frustration and terror as she was jerked closer to the thing. She refused to turn and look, she was too afraid to stop struggling. With a fierce yank upon her neck, though, it pulled her onto her back and began to reel her in like a fish, and she finally got a glimpse of their attacker.

Tentacles whipped through the air, coming from every inch of the thing's body (if you could even call it that), all a deep, blood-clot crimson, all dripping and oozing closer to where they emerged from the somehow transparent, lump-like base. From everywhere within the forest of writhing appendages stared dozens of blank, empty eyeballs, bloodshot and yellowed. They were coated with a thin, mucose gunk, and as she was hauled closer and closer, she could smell a thick, diseased smell wafting from it. It smelled of gangrene; infection; and even death, and suddenly she was too afraid to scream anymore as her eyes locked onto a beating, tumorous lump buried deep within its center.

Subject T hadn't failed to notice it, either, and he advanced, claws outstretched, preparing to slice his way to it when its side split open like a toothless mouth. Lara struggled with the last of her strength, uselessly scraping her bleeding fingers along the ground as the creature pulled her closer to the bottomless pit that was its mouth. With a waving tentacle, it swept Subject T's feet out from under him, and he tumbled to the ground hard, his head bouncing off the floor and filling his vision with bright flecks of light. He growled faintly, and motored his arms weakly, fighting unconsciousness as Lara's legs vanished into the open maw of the monster.

She shrieked in terror and agony against the gooey tentacle still covering her mouth, slapping at the cement and desperately trying to get Subject T to get up; get him to help her. Try as he might, though, he couldn't push himself to his feet, and he could only watch through blurry eyes as Lara's lower half became engulfed by the grotesque thing with a dull sucking sound. Her cries tapered off to heaving sobs, and Subject T weakly reached for her, trying to crawl forward, hoping he could get to her in time...


	24. Another Brick In The Wall

Chapter 23: Another Brick In The Wall

Yes, I am still here. I didn't get many reviews on the last chapter. Crycry. Oh well, looks like I'll just have to update more often. You lazy bums! Hmph.

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Somehow, Subject T managed to drag himself to his feet, and stumbled toward the creature, whose eyes shifted and rolled, uncaring. Anger boiled within him, swelling and rolling and expanding; clouding his senses with a thick curtain of red. He snarled, and dove forward, no longer concerned with his own safety; only caring about saving Lara. She, by now, had fallen unconscious, and was up to her neck in the creature's bloated, dripping mass. Subject T aimed his claws as best he could, sinking them into the writhing mass of tentacles and hitting home when it uttered something like a high-pitched whistle; though from where, he was unsure. Frantically swiping and tearing at the side of the beast, he sliced away the barrage of tentacles that flew at him, trying to wrap themselves about his arms and legs.

Finally, the creature's struggles slowed, and when Subject T began to slice at its eyes, it shuddered, heaved, and with a disgusting, wet sound, Lara landed face first on the sticky floor. She awakened with a gasp, and began coughing dryly; writhing as the pain returned. She was nearly covered with what could only be considered the beast's blood, as well as her own, which mixed to create a thick, viscous, nearly black slime that soaked her to the bone. Subject T, however, continued his assault even after the creature ceased its writhing, its tentacles drooping limply and it eyes sinking deep into the moss-colored blood, hissing and growling. He was consumed with his fury, and Lara had to crawl on hands and knees to avoid being sliced open. She crawled until she got to the closest wall, and there she sat, watching Subject T furiously continue to dismember the dead blob, panting and crying and trying to wipe away the bloody goop from her eyes.

After what seemed an eternity, Subject T slowed, and finally, stopped. He turned to Lara and stared at her, his chest heaving. His eyes, no longer black, had nearly reverted to their original color; a deep, forest green that pierced Lara to the core. Even beneath the monster, she knew there was still a man, and it seemed the only thing he really had to live for now was protecting her. Lara covered her face with her hands and took a deep breath, feeling heart-wrenching sympathy threaten to bring her to tears again. After a moment, she shakily rose, trying to shove the pain to the back of her mind. She felt a little like a pincushion, after all; and as she limped forward to meet Subject T, she realized that she was missing something.

Turning a circle and eyeing the ground, she began to search, and Subject T watched curiously, his anger having faded. Finally, Lara's eyes came to rest upon the shredded body of the creature, and she could see the glint of metal deep within the center of the jello-like blob.

"Oh, _fuck_."

Groaning, she leaned over, grimaced, and reluctantly plunged her hand in. She dug, but the thickening body was too much for just one hand, so she was forced to dig with both. Subject T watched in a vague combination of amusement and disgust, listening Lara mumble curses to herself. Finally, though, her fingertips touched something hard, and she forced her hands in just a little more, and wrapped her fingers around the barrel of the gun. With a wet sucking sound, she wrenched her hands free, nearly losing her balance in the process. Shifting it to her other hand, she brought the gun to her face and examined it, wrinkling her nose. Glancing over to Subject T, she shrugged half-heartedly, and then averted her eyes back to the dead blob. After glowering at it for a moment, she lashed out tiredly with one foot and sunk her boot into it, watching more blood pour from its numerous, gaping wounds. Satisfied, she spat upon the ground next to the ugly creature, whose corpse had begun to smell a little like rotted lunchmeat. Turning back to Subject T and meeting with his questioning stare, she shrugged again, waving the gun a little for emphasis.

"Motherfucker stole my gun."

As if struck by something outrageously funny, Lara began to snicker, covering her mouth with one hand and staring at Subject T helplessly through tired, glittering eyes. Subject T shifted on his feet, and the uneasiness in his features brought her giggles to a full-out laugh. She doubled over in both pain and glee, clutching her stomach and clenching her eyes shut, gripping the gun so tightly her hand turned white. Vaguely, Lara realized that she was beginning to lose her mind. She needed to get out of here, and soon. But for some reason, even with that knowledge, she couldn't stop laughing; even as tears forced themselves through her closed lids and her head grew light. Subject T took a heavy step closer, and Lara slowly turned her face up to look into his eyes. _'He's so human now...'_ The thought was like a shotgun blast in the back of her mind, and the laugh caught heavily in her throat. Slowly, still staring into the entrancing, human eyes that stared out from his monstrous body, she wiped at her cheeks, straightened, and after another long moment, smiled. Subject T, a little taken aback by the warmth that seemed to blossom from nowhere, took another step toward her, reaching out with one wickedly clawed hand to touch her.

This time, when he reached for her, she didn't cringe away from his outstretched fingers and claws. She didn't scream, she didn't run, and she didn't cower. She stood, staring into his face, arms limp at her sides; shivering slightly as an air conditioning vent overhead kicked on. Not even the faint clunk and hum from the vent felled her; she simply stood, gazing up at him. His claws slowly passed her face as his arm slid over her shoulder, and she could feel the air from them; almost _hear_ them as they went by. She wondered deliriously, '_Is_ _he going to kill me?_', but when his arm settled across her upper back and gently began to pull her closer, she realized that he wouldn't do that. She didn't assume it; she _knew_ it. Again, she realized that despite the virus, and the mutation, and the anger and hate he must have had at some point toward her, underneath the layers of scarred flesh and tainted blood; this huge, tortured beast was still a man, and he knew he was going to die; and he wanted nothing more than to protect her from suffering the same fate.

She didn't struggle as his massive arm pulled her into his chest. Her eyes lowered, however, to stare down at her own shoulder in shame, and he stopped drawing her closer. Carefully, he slid his other hand, slowly moving it so as not to startle and cut her, and laid it upon her cheek. He tilted it and delicately (as delicately as he could manage in this body) tried his best to palm her cheek, turning it up so she was again staring into his eyes. Her mouth hung half-open in an almost comic depiction of bewilderment when her eyes met with those that described any picture of forgiveness: deep, warm, and endless. Her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes, and she carefully turned her face and rested it on his chest, choking back a sob. Her grief threatened to overwhelm her again; to swallow her whole, and she could feel her body growing more and more tense as she tried to keep it at bay. The arm behind her tightened around her, just slightly, and Lara had to bite her tongue to keep composure. _'How can he forgive me? After all that's happened? After all I helped put thim through...?'_

As if sensing her thought, he shook his head above her. She felt it, and a tiny smile ghosted across her thin, goo-covered face. Her eyes closed briefly, and she listened to his breathing, felt his chest rise and fall beneath her cheek. For the first time in this hellhole, she felt truly _safe_. Revulsion no longer haunted the back of her mind. Fear no longer clouded her senses. He was still Thomas DeSalvo; and she still wanted to help him. It wasn't entirely too late... _was it?_

Lara slowly pulled her head away, and Subject T released her, letting his arms hang at his sides. The pair stared into each other for a moment that seemed to go on forever. Finally, Lara opened her mouth to speak.

"I'm going to do my best to get us both out of here. Alive."

His eyes lightened, and she knew that if he could have smiled, he would have been at that moment. She smiled widely at him, somehow hopeful despite the fact that she was covered in blood and guts.

"Let's head for the access stairwell... Maybe someone will have gotten stuck and can help us."

Subject T nodded heavily, and watched her as she turned to lead him down the hall. His eyes widened, and what came next seemed to happen in slow motion; the world blurring. His heart seemed to inch between beats, and he couldn't open his mouth fast enough to cry out in warning as a thick, dripping tentacle swooped down from the rafters and bludgeoned Lara in the side of the head. The force didn't just throw her, but sent her flying into the wall; and she hit it with a sickening crunch as her shoulder pulled itself from its socket. Her scream pierced him to the core, and he yowled as fury blossomed all over again, fresh and ripe. Lara toppled to the floor, clutching her right shoulder and screeching like a banshee. From above her, she faintly heard a familiar hissing sound, and suddenly, the huge tentacled beast from before thudded heavily onto the floor next to her.

Subject T snarled, feeling the virus within him eating at his humanity all over again. It was like a war of good and evil; Thomas versus the soul-destroying virus. If he gave in to his rage completely this time; there may be no return, and whatever happened to Lara may not be left to the hands of whatever else lurked within the darkness of the facility. Shaking his head to clear it, though, he stared into the empty red pits that belonged to the sharp-toothed abomination. They studied him with cold uncertainty. He was food, just as much as anything else. But the small one, it was closer. It hungered, and it would sate itself now.

It turned, slowly, to face Lara. She gaped up at it, paralyzed by her pain, unable to do anything other than scream as loudly as she could. Its head snapped back towards Subject T when he took a pair of thundering steps towards them, then turned back to Lara.

It was a standoff.

Neither of them moved for what seemed an eternity. Lara continued to pant, and cough, and scream.

Suddenly, the tentacled beast lashed out with a pair of wicked grey appendages, meaning to use them to separate Lara's head from her shoulders.

At the same time, Subject T leapt, claws outstretched, toward the hissing, writhing creature.

Now, it was only a matter of who was faster.

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Oooooooh, cliffhanger.

Review. Now. PLEASE.


	25. Innervision

**Chapter 24: Innervision**

_A/N: Bet you thought this day would never come, didn't you?! WRONG! I've been so busy, but that's no excuse to leave you hanging… So here it is. Sorry if it's a little short… But, action, ahoy!_

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For a moment, time stood still.

Subject T felt frozen in the heavy fabric of it, caught eternally mid-leap in a blinding panic, gripped by fear. For him, Lara was eight feet away.

The tentacled giant knew nothing of fear; not yet. Its tentacles shot forward, at what must have looked like impossible speeds, writhing and preparing to latch onto Lara's throat. For it, Lara was only six feet away.

Caught in the middle and overwhelmed by agony, Lara lay writhing, clutching her shoulder. Faintly, she wondered, "Is this it..? We've come so far…" All she could do was watch as the thick appendages closed in upon her, her mouth open in a silent cry. Red washed over her vision again, and she knew that either death or unconsciousness was close at hand. Subject T flew through the air, wailing his painful, hideous battle cry as the distance closed between him and his adversary. Lara felt slimy, frigid flesh brush her throat, and she closed her eyes, took a slow breath, and waited for the beast to crush it out of her.

After what seemed an eternity, Subject T's bulk hit his target, and sent them both flying several feet. The tentacle beast screeched as it was crushed between Subject T and the wall, and as they slid to the floor, Subject T began to slice and claw with all his might. He knew, somewhere deep within himself, that if he let his infectious rage grow any further, he may never be able to come out of it. When a slimy tentacle wrapped itself around his throat and began to crush it, however, he knew that if either he or Lara were to survive this ordeal, he would have to succumb to his anger.

He gave into it with a hellish, bloodcurdling yowl that brought Lara back from the brink of unconsciousness, and sliced frantically at the appendage encircling his neck. It fell away, and while the creature shook in pain, Subject T drew his arm back, preparing to deliver a blow to its head. Just as he brought his fist forward, it snaked a tentacle around each of his wrists, prying them away from its body and to his sides. He flailed, snapping and snarling, desperately kicking his legs. As Lara gaped through tunneled vision, the beast began to stretch Subject T's arms out, pulling them tighter and tighter against their sockets. His arms began to creak and crunch as the joints threatened to separate themselves, and when Subject T threw back his head and screamed in a nearly human voice of pain, she couldn't help herself. She found her breath again, and joined in, the sound of a crazed wildcat; the sound of anguish and terror balled into one inarticulate cry.

The sound alone was enough distraction, it seemed, because the creature turned its huge, almond-shaped eyes upon her, baring its teeth and snarling. For a moment, the pull on Subject T's arms weakened, and in that brief instant, he pulled his arms in and tore at one of the tentacles with his teeth, savoring in the dark blood that suddenly spilled upon him. He tasted it; a sour, burning consuming his tongue, and the howl of rage that poured from his opponent's mouth was fuel enough to whip his head to the other side and do it again. He tore and slashed with his wicked fangs, this time, ripping the tentacle clean off. He spat it aside and lunged forward at the raving creature, and as his teeth meet with the creature's meaty throat, he vaguely heard Lara's cry turn into a crow of victory.

Lara released her screaming arm and began to pound on the floor, to kick her legs, to make as much noise as she could in support of Subject T; but also just to make sure she was still alive. Her mouth hung open in a terrible, haunting shriek as she watched Subject T tear into the writhing assailant's neck. She watched as its blood first ran, then oozed, then gushed from its growing wound; stared on and grew silent as its struggles began to weaken. Still, Subject T held it in a deadly embrace, claws sunk entirely into its back, unwavering in his grip as it flailed and seized in his arms. His teeth tore and shredded its throat until he found bone, and even then, he did not stop, yowling and snarling and burrowing his way past the bone and down into its chest. Slowly but surely, he lay it upon its back, seeming to dissect it with his teeth and tongue, crunching through its misshapen ribcage and tasting its innards.

Lara, unable to watch, forced her eyes closed, but could not force away the wet grinding and gnashing as Subject T tore away at the huge, tentacled being. Tears forced themselves through her swollen eyelids and she began to shiver, sobbing silently inside herself as she tried to block out the sounds of carnage and death. She drew into herself as best she could; forcing aside the pain in her undoubtedly dislocated shoulder and aching head.

"Just… want… to sleep..."

The sound of eating slowly died away, but still, she did not open her eyes. Slowly, Subject T rose, staring through nearly empty eyes at the spasming beast below him. With an agitated snarl, he lashed out with one clawed foot, and it struck home, burying itself in the open side of its neck and tearing the head clear from the shoulders. It rolled away, and with his eyes, Subject T followed it, watching as it came to a stop before Lara. A small spray of blood splattered her face, and she jolted, preparing herself for the worst.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, and with all her remaining strength, forced herself not to vomit as a scream caught in her throat. She was staring directly into the creature's soulless, deadened gaze, and before she could release the cry that had welled up in her chest, something in her shoulder ground against itself. Pain exploded inside her, and she saw tiny pinpricks of white light before her eyes. She could not move; could hardly breathe, and laid there, shuddering, as her eyes found Subject T's. He knelt beside her, shoved the head out of view, and used one bloody claw to brush her matted hair from her face. Though she was horrified by the sight of blue-green blood coating him, she lost sight of it when she looked into his eyes. As consciousness slipped away from her once more, she spoke softly, reaching her good hand out to try and touch his face.

"Your eyes… are green… again.."

The smile that had ghosted across her pallid face vanished, and just before she could reach his face, darkness took her, and her hand fell back to the floor. The last thing she saw was the green eyes coming closer, and a warm hand brushing her face.  
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**EDIT: I see all those page views! Shame on you, reading and not reviewing! Your feedback is what keeps me writing! You guys make a difference in the way the story runs! Positive feedback, negative feedback, anything that lets me know you enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoy writing it. Please, take the time to click and type, if only to say 'Hey, I was here.". :)  
**


	26. Black Hole Sun

**Chapter 25: Black Hole Sun**

**A/N:** _Sorry for the lack of updates. This is a quadruple update, though, and I know this seems short, but it's that way for effect. Shh, don't cry. And please don't kill me._

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Slowly, Lara opened her eyes. The world around her was a hazy, bright blur, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not seem to pull herself out of her dizzied stupor. Her head felt as though it was filled with water, and if she moved, it seemed to swirl and rage like a stormy sea. There was pain, lots of it, but it seemed distant; unimportant. It was a faint but noticeable thrum that seemed to edge closer and closer the longer she kept her eyes open.

So she did the most logical thing: she closed her eyes, and the world faded to black around her.


	27. Take Me to the Hospital

**Chapter 26: Take Me to the Hospital**

**A/N:** _Part two of the update… This one is a bit short as well, but I promise, it's for a reason: EFFECT. Enjoy!_

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Lara's eyes slowly opened once more. Her vision, still blurred, wavered from black to white, and vaguely she realized that there was someone next to her. She tried to open her mouth to speak, and to turn her head to look at whoever was with her, but her body felt so frustratingly heavy that she could not muster even a twitch. Even her lips; small, cracked, and fragile as they were, felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds each. After summoning all the strength she could from deep within, she managed to turn her head, just a little, to the left.

In her head, the stormy seas began to rage, and the dizziness seemed to sweep over her in a massive wave. As though it were a speeding train, the pain slammed its way through her, then, hot and sharp and angry. Deep in her mind, she remembered that her shoulder had been dislocated, and quite possibly broken. As the pain and dizziness mingled with each other and swept over her again and again like a tide, Lara managed to murmur one word, weak and cracked.

_"…Hurts…"_

Suddenly, a face swam into her line of sight, and try as she might, she could not force her eyes to focus enough to let her study it. She knew one thing, though: it was not Subject T. In the back of her throat she made a strangled, pained noise, and she heard whoever was leaning over her shush her, and lay a hand upon her forehead. It began to speak, and through her haze, Lara could only catch bits and pieces of the being's nervous speech.

"She's….._ fever_… Don't…._ claws at me_… Trying…_help_… Give… _morphine_… she'll be…. _Comfortable_.."

Lara felt a vague prick in the crook of her screaming arm, and suddenly she felt very warm… very calm. The tide of pain seemed to be pulling away, and she had to fight to keep her eyes open. Another, larger face swam into view, and a smile tugged itself across her face. This time, she knew it was Subject T. She wanted nothing more than to reach out to him, tell him about this wondrous warmth and calm that had suddenly blanketed her; how she felt no more pain, really… Her lips motored, but no sound came out, and after another moment of trying to focus her vision, the peaceful blanket of warmth fully enveloped her, and unconsciousness was upon her once more.


	28. That's the Way It Is

**Chapter 27: That's the Way It Is**

**A/N:** _Part three of the update. Still a tad short, but it'll all work itself out, right :D_

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After what seemed an eternity of peaceful warmth, the blanket slowly began to recede, and Lara's eyes fluttered open. This time, instead of being unable to see, her blurry vision receded quickly. Her body still felt heavy and tender, but she managed to roll her head to one side. There she saw two familiar faces, and her heart leapt in her chest, a small cry of excitement and surprise rising in her throat.

One face belonged to Subject T, who loomed in one corner of the room, watching her with an obvious interest and surprise. He took a step closer, seeming to be unsure if she was really awake, but when she smiled, he ambled over to her. Carefully, he rested one clawed hand upon her forehead, and as she stared up into his face, she saw that his once black eyes had now become green; a piercing, forest green as they had been before… Slowly, she forced herself into a sitting position, nearly losing her balance and falling off of the cot she'd been lying on. Subject T steadied her, but she waved him off groggily and turned her attention to the other figure in the room.

"Doctor… Oberman?"

The old man smiled wearily, and, avoiding getting too close to Subject T, approached Lara and laid a hand upon her shoulder. Lara realized that the pain in her right shoulder had faded to nearly nothing; just a dull ache that would only annoy if it were to be focused upon. She focused her attention on her old friend, who had also been one of the doctors that had helped with the unfortunate transformation of Subject T. His face, old and weathered, but still sharp, was a welcome familiarity.

"But… how?"

The old man, still smiling, slowly lowered himself onto an adjacent stool, and cleared his throat to speak.

"I was in the fourth floor lab, another unventilated room…"

"Just like the one I was in!"

"Precisely, my dear."

"But how have you managed to stay alive down here? How long has it been since it all started? How long was I out? Did you fix my shoulder? Why didn't Subject T kill you?!"

Paul Oberman chuckled at her barrage of questions, and gently patted her arm.

"This room is very tightly sealed, and though they have tried, none of our ex-coworkers have been able to penetrate it. From my watch's calculations, it's been three days. My dear, I am, indeed responsible for fixing your shoulder, and I also tended to the poor stitches in your stomach. You developed a fever, and I'm afraid you might have an infection. You're not allergic to penicillin, I hope?"

"Well, no…"

"Good, because I gave you some."

The doctor grinned; a boyish look for such an old man, and Lara couldn't help but giggle. It felt good to laugh. It felt like she hadn't done it for ages, and it seemed to help settle her nerves. After a moment to let the first half of his information sink in, Oberman continued.

"You were out for about nine hours… You must be starved, dear…"

Lara smiled sheepishly, and nodded.

The doctor rose, and turned to a cabinet, opening it and withdrawing from a shelf a half a sandwich and a bottle of water. He handed them gingerly to Lara, who smiled gratefully and began to eat and drink.

"I managed to raid one of the employee lounge's refrigerators."

Once she had finished her sandwich and had downed half the bottle of water, Lara's stomach quieted, and she wiped her hands on her pants and motioned for him to continue.

"Currently, we are in a third floor medical wing. In terms of our large friend here," he jerked a thumb at the intently listening Subject T, "I believe there may be an enzyme in his brain that prevents him from being fully controlled by the virus."

Lara looked dumbfounded, and shook her head.

"I don't follow you."

"A chemical in the X-Virus prototype alters signals in the brain and tells them to act a certain way. In the case of the virus, it sends signals to kill, eat, and destroy… If there is a certain rare chemical, it can… counteract the way the virus processes and can stop it from altering the brain's original signals. Or at least, just slow it down. Perhaps not so simply, but you understand what I mean, yes?"

Lara nodded as understanding flooded her.

"So in Thomas's case, the virus easily mutated his body but not the way his mind works?"

"Partially so, I'm afraid. You saw how he acted when this all began."

Her eyes cast downward, Lara slowly nodded.

"Does… the color of his eyes mean it's possible that the virus is dying inside him? That is has nothing else to feed from?"

Slowly, the old man shook his head.

"It will eat away at him until, essentially, there is nothing left. Such is the reason that he initially was eating the still living staff. As the virus runs out of living tissue to dissect, it becomes painful for the infected, even if it is not a totally conscious pain. It is possible, however, to slow down the degenerative processes by substituting fresh tissue into the system."

"Is that how the X-Virus differs from the other two types, and why they… eat… people?"

"Yes. The other two viruses eventually, shall we say, run out of steam. If there is fresh tissue for the body and virus to break down, then one infected with the X-virus can still continue to function, albeit poorly."

"So for him to live, at least a while longer.. he'll have to keep eating… people?" Lara swallowed hard, and felt her stomach begin to churn.

Slowly, reluctantly, Oberman nodded.

Lara turned sad blue eyes upon Subject T, and reached over to carefully take one of his clawed hands. His eyes told her everything she needed to know: that he understood, and that he was not afraid.


	29. Apocalypse Please

**Chapter 28: Apocalypse Please**

**A/N:** _Last update for the day, lol, four of four. Very short, but very pointed. Enjoy. Review, please:D_

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Slowly, Richard Ashford opened his eyes and was born into a world of pain. Every muscle seemed to wail in agony and despair as he fought for the strength to move.

After a moment, he realized that he was bound to an examination table.

After another moment, he realized that one of his arms was missing, and that from it protruded several sharp tentacles and one long, scorpion-like claw, black and cruel. The tentacles waved before his eyes, drenched with what he knew to be his own blood. His mouth opened in an agonized yowl of terror and confusion, and from the shadows, he saw a glimmer of metal. His mouth snapped shut, and as thick beads of sweat rolled down his face and into his eyes, he prepared to beg for his life.

A masked figure came forward from the shadows with a syringe, filled with a faintly luminescent green fluid.

Richard opened his mouth and began to scream again, and then the masked figure fell upon him.

There was a prick of a needle, and Richard knew no more.

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**EDIT: **_I see all those page views. Shame on you for not reviewing! We've been over this, people! I need your support and feedback to keep me going! I mean, holy crap, I'm almost to 400 reviews! Make it happen for me._

_ :D  
_


	30. Going off the Rails On the Crazy Train

**Chapter 29: Going off the Rails (On the Crazy Train)**

_A/N: Yes, I'm updating again, already! Wowee! Be afraid. Review, please, for the love of all that is gory and grody. Please :D_

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Lara turned her gaunt and dirty face away from Subject T, unable to look at him any longer. It hurt her to know how close she'd become to him, and it hurt her more deeply that she hadn't been able to keep her promise to him. Her teeth fumbled for and found her already shredded lower lip and began to gnaw again as a blanket of heavy, somber silence descended rapidly upon the room.

Slowly, she reached over, blindly, and took one of Subject T's hands, giving it a gentle squeeze. He gazed down at her, huge and menacing and yet somehow frail and kind, his eyes now having become their natural forest green. His thinking had become much clearer, and the need for blood was not to strong. Sometimes it came for him, like a lurking creature in the darkness of his mind, and mostly he was able to fight it off. Deep down, though, he had become conscious within himself to wonder what would happen to Lara if he could sustain it no longer. For the first time in a long time, it seemed, the hulking beast with a man trapped inside was afraid.

Before any of the three could break the overwhelming silence, a banging came at the heavy metal door.

"Doc! Fucking open up, it's me, I'm back. Come on, you faggoty old geezer! They're right fucking behind me!"

Lara appeared to nearly jump out of her skin with surprise. She shot a glance at Subject T, who readied himself to attack. Oberman waved him off absently and jogged for the door, unlocking it and wrenching it open with great effort. He was nearly thrown off his feet by the man that forced his way past and slammed the door behind himself, a hefty man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties. He was scruffy and unkempt with what must have been a week's worth of dark stubble, and he looked just as tired as Lara felt. His dark circles under his eyes gave that away, and as the spiky-haired guy locked the door and leaned against it, Lara could tell that none of them would be able to last much longer under these circumstances.

"Must you talk to me that way, Mr. Phillips? I did save your sorry hide, you know."

The man took a deep breath, wiped sweat from his brow, then spoke.

"How many fuckin' times I gotta tell ya, Doc? It's Mike. Not Mr. Phillips, not Phillips. Mike. Please. You're driving me damn batshit with that bull, 'kay? Oh, she's awake?"

In greeting, Mike waved a rather frightening assault rifle in Lara's direction, seemingly not bothered by Subject T at all. Lara smiled meekly, a little taken aback, and slowly began to get to her feet.

"Nah, lady, don't get up on my account, I've already seen ya topless, after all."

Mike grinned wolfishly, and lowered his weapon after a boyish shrug. Lara was positively speechless.

"Nice.. to meet you.. too?"

Mike glanced at Oberman with a raised brow.

"So uh, how much did ya tell her, exactly?"

The doctor folded his arms impatiently, obviously having little tolerance for his foul-mouthed comerade.

"Some. I wasn't finished, before you burst in here like some—"

Mike cut him off with a wave of his weapon, and began to speak again.

"Okay, so does she at least know the plan?"

Lara's heart began to swell with hope. If they had a plan, maybe they were going to get out of this nightmare after all.

"I was going to get to that. Did you get what you left for?"

Mike grinned again, and pulled his duffel bag from his shoulder. It fell to the floor heavily, and some of its contents spilled out. The bag was filled to the brim with weapons and ammunition. Lara's heart skipped a beat. She slid off the table and approached Mike. He cocked a brow and stared down at her.

"Yes?"

Lara smirked.

"You got a Beretta in that bag of tricks?"

Mike stooped and fumbled for a moment, tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he dug through the nearly overflowing bag. After a moment, he clicked his tongue and chuckled, pulling his hand free with a fully-loaded pistol.

"This what you're talkin' 'bout?"

Lara returned his grin, and gently plucked the weapon from his hands. It held a certain familiarity about it, and that was good. It gave her more hope; perhaps they really could make it now. There way enough ammo in here to take out an entire army of those things, after all!

"So, uh, what's the plan?" Lara checked the safety on her gun, then slid it into the waistband of the back of her pants.

"You're prolly not gonna like it, kiddo."

Lara smirked again, and folded her arms.

"I'm a big girl, I can take it."

Mike snorted and lay his rifle down upon the table where Lara had been seated. Subject T ambled in closer to listen, and Oberman stood firm, arms still folded.

"We go through the sewer tunnels."

Lara's smirk faded.

"….Fuck."

Mike grinned again.

"Looks like you're not such a hotshot, huh, fairy princess?"

Lara scowled, and briskly flipped up a middle finger in Mike's direction.

"Yeah, I know, the ladies love me. Look, the sooner we blow this scene the better, we still dunno for sure what all's escaped the labs. Let's rock and roll, yeah?"

Lara glanced at the doctor. He smiled tiredly at her, and nodded. She turned her head to Subject T, who nodded heavily as well.

"Fine. Let's haul some ass."

The doctor reached back into the cabinet and withdrew a small duffel bag. Lara cocked a brow in question.

"Water and first aid supplies. Just in case."

Lara smiled and gave him a thumb-up, and Mike sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Yadda yadda, pussy pills. Only medicine anyone'll be taking is a few of these pills." Mike waved his rifle again, and Lara rolled her eyes. This would be a very interesting escape, that was for sure. All they had to do, she knew, was make their way down to the tunnels and from there to the emergency elevator. Piece of cake, she tried to tell herself.

"Are we on?"

Oberman nodded, slinging the bag over his shoulder and readying himself to run. Lara nodded as well, laying a hand on her weapon to make sure it was still there. It was cool and soothing to the touch.

"Let's fuck some shit up!"

Mike opened the door, and the four of them began to run.

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Yay! More people! I like him. He's silly. Review, please?


	31. Ain't Nothing Gonna Break My Stride

**Chapter 30: Ain't Nothing Gonna Break My Stride**

**A/N:** _Since you all seemed so sad that the last chapter was short, here's a short sort of add-on for it. Enjoy. I see a lot more page views and a lot fewer reviews. It makes me sad. I wanna get to 500 reviews here, people! _

_Help me out! If you know someone that would enjoy this fic, have them read it. If you're reading this now, I implore you, help me reach this goal:D  
_

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And so they ran, all surprisingly fast for how tired they were. Mike, for his weight, was startlingly agile, and that gave Lara the strength to ignore her various aches and pains enough to keep up.

For a moment, Mike forgot that they were in a zombie-infested lab and howled, "Yippee-ki-yay, motherfuckers!"

Lara couldn't help herself and began to giggle furiously. It made her stitches and shoulder throb angrily, but it felt so good to really laugh that she hardly noticed. She soon had to fight to breathe, though, and so forced herself to choke back her sudden fit of laughter.

They turned corners and met with no danger, and Lara was almost convinced that with the trigger-happy Mike and the hulking Subject T, nothing could stand in their way. The four started down a short hall and from around a corner came one of their old coworkers. She was mostly naked, and had only one breast; the other had been torn away. Her face way nearly without flesh, and as they neared, Lara could see the slick of bone beneath one ravaged cheek.

Without a moment's hesitation, Mike raised his weapon, aimed, and fired, and none of them slowed as the woman's forehead caved in and she crumpled. All of them skittered around her first, and then the corner. Mike grinned back over his shoulder, never missing a beat.

"Piece a fucking cake, baby!"

Lara laughed again, but was cut short when Mike's loping strides suddenly came to a halt. Oberman stopped, and Lara just barely avoided being bowled over by Subject T. They had stopped behind Mike, who was silently and motionlessly staring around a corner in disbelief. Lara swallowed hard, and took a step forward to whisper to Mike.

"What… is it?"

Mike took a quick couple of steps back and pulled Lara and the doctor with. Now they were back far enough that anything in the next hall would be unable to see them.

The silence broke when a low moan echoed around them, followed shortly by another.

And another.

And another.

And several more, one right after the other. Mike turned and smiled gauntly, waving his gun in the direction of the corner.

"We got company."

Lara grimaced.

"How many?"

Mike swallowed hard and turned his glance to the floor.

"Lots."

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_There ya go, kiddies. Enjoy. Don't forget to review, please. :)  
_


	32. The Egg and You

**Chapter Thirty-One: The Egg and You**

**A/N:** Here's an update for all of you, my lovies. Kindly review it, I'm still on my quest for 500 reviews. Make it happen for me, yes?

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Mike took a slow step back and readied his weapon, and Dr. Oberman reached into his lab coat and withdrew a handgun of his own. Lara checked again to be sure her weapon had ammunition, and Subject T swiped his claws at the air a few times, readying himself for battle. He was excited, now that he knew he could be more useful to Lara. Deep inside, he was ashamed to admit that he was also excited that there would be bloodshed. Despite becoming slowly more human as parts of the virus receded within him, he was still partly a bloodthirsty beast. He had realized, though, finally, that there was no going back, and some part of him had come to terms with it. Now, though, was time to protect his mate and her new friends. That was all that was important.

Subject T glanced down at Lara, then at the doctor, then at Mike. All looked tired, hungry, and terrified. Lara turned and stared up at him, and she smiled. He felt the human part of himself melt a little, and in that one moment where her eyes met his, he knew that he would gladly give his life for her. Back when he had still been just a man, he probably would have either died or killed himself by now, but with this new strength, he could make a difference in someone else's life, rather than just being the selfish bastard he'd always been. Now was the time to prove he was worth something. Now was his moment.

Lara glanced at Mike, who'd suddenly become the leader. Mike nodded slowly, and motioned with his gun for them to move forward.

The four of them turned the corner, weapons drawn and claws out, and began their battle.

Lara took aim at the nearest zombie, and the back of the woman's head exploded in a shower of gore. Her body toppled and landed upon a fallen zombie that Mike had gunned down already. Two down.

Oberman fired with unsettling accuracy, in mere moments having felled four zombies that were closing in upon him, arms outstretched in their eternal hunger. They crumpled as he ran toward them. Six down. He continued on, firing madly into the diminishing horde. He was careful, though, not to hit the hulking Subject T. Despite the fact that he was a beast, the doctor could also sense his returning humanity. Even though he knew there was no cure, he did not want to be the one responsible for taking a virtually innocent life.

Subject T ran ahead of the others, swiping and clawing madly. One woman latched onto his left arm, and he sunk to his knees and crushed her ribcage with one bulky leg. With his free hand, he jabbed his claws into her face, then rose to carry on the slaughter.

Lara was doing her best not to trip over the accumulating number of bodies as she tried to keep up with Mike. Mike was being himself and hooting and hollering, swearing at the zombies, and making as many ankle shots as he could so he could step on heads. At one point, he got one to topple, then he knelt before it and stuck his tongue out at it before breaking its neck with his bare hands.

"And to think, I have Uncle Sam to thank for my training! Yee-haw! How you guys doin' back there?" Mike glanced over his shoulder and watched as Lara kicked an armless zombie's feet out from under it and shot it between the eyes. He grinned. This girl was good. He could tell that she didn't enjoy it as much as he did, but she was still good. Maybe if they got out of here, he'd take her out for a drink. Hell, why not two?

Oberman lashed out with one fist at a man that had gotten too close. When he stumbled backwards, groaning and bleeding from his crushed nose, he was promptly met with a bullet through one eye. He toppled over, and the doctor stepped over him and called out, "I may be sixty-two, but I've still got it! Haha!"

Lara couldn't help but chuckle, then was cut short when a pair of arms wrapped around her from one side. She lifted her leg and wedged it between herself and the offending body, then pushed out as hard as she could. She heard a click as teeth came together just inches from her face, and whirled to face the zombie that had attacked her. It was someone she thought she recognized, and she looked at her chest to try and read the bloody nametag. It read 'Gracie'. Lara smiled placidly, and aimed her weapon. "Say good night, Gracie."

The back of Gracie's head vanished, and Lara continued. There were only a few more left, and Subject T made quick work of them with a few lashes of his claws. The foursome stopped for a moment to catch their breath. Mike spoke up first, after a long moment of silence.

"As fun as that was, I gotta say, I feel pretty bad for the poor bastards. God rest their fucking souls, man."

Oberman and Lara nodded in silent agreement, and Subject T snorted, trying to wipe away some of the blood on his claws on a nearby corpse. He did not feel bad for them, not at all. After all, was it not these people that took his humanity from him? The only reason he didn't kill Oberman was that he had saved Lara. That pretty much was a free redemption card, in his eyes.

Mike took a deep breath, and straightened. "We'd better carry on, people. We don't want to stay here any longer than we have to."

"Amen to that, dude." Lara grinned, using the back of one arm to wipe a small splash of blood from her face. She knew they were close to the sewer system, and even knowing that it was a way out of here did not make her fear it any less. She knew it would be dark down there, possibly pitch black. Mike, seeming to read her thoughts, knelt to fumble around in the bag. After a moment, he tossed her something. It was a searchlight to attach to the top of her gun. She grinned heartily.

"You're fucking prepared for anything, aren't you?"

Mike grinned back at her, and raised his brows. "Pretty much. Just not nuclear winter, or nothin' like that."

Lara clipped the light to the top of her weapon, and watched as Mike tossed the doc one so he could do the same. The three readied themselves for one last moment, and then Mike began to walk again.

They rounded a few corners before coming to a door. Mike glanced back at them, and then moved them all back a few steps. Subject T snorted at him, not enjoying not being in charge anymore. Mike just smirked up at him, rolled his eyes, and then lashed out with one foot at the door. It gave way under the strength of his meaty leg and crashed open.

Inside, the room was small, like a closet, and thankfully, it was empty. In the middle of the tiny grey room was a ladder, leading down into some dark, foul-smelling abyss. Lara grimaced as the smell wafted into her nostrils, and she noticed right away that she wasn't the only one bothered by the smell. The doctor cringed, and Mike whistled.

"This could get dirty. You folks ready to get wet?"

At the thought, Lara gagged a little, but reluctantly, she nodded. She was more than willing to go through here if it meant getting the hell out of this nightmare. Turning to look at Oberman, she smiled, to give him encouragement. He looked particularly green at the thought of going down into the sewers. He caught her glance, and smiled wearily.

"My dear, I am a doctor. I am very aware of the plethora of diseases we could contract by going down there. I am, needless to say, less then ecstatic."

After a moment, all of them burst into a mad fit of giggles. It just seemed ridiculous, that to get out of there, they'd have to wind up knee-deep in shit. Finally, they managed to get their laughing fit under control, and Mike motioned to Subject T.

"You, uh, mind going first, there, big guy?" Mike grinned his trademark cheese ball grin, and Subject T really wanted to slice him. He controlled himself, however, and plundered forward, carefully maneuvering himself down and into the tunnel. He didn't need to use the ladder, it wasn't a very long drop, perhaps only nine feet or so. Subject T moved out of the way, and Mike came down the ladder. When he reached the bottom, he splashed into the water, which was only ankle deep, and turned to survey his surroundings.

What he saw made him gasp, and he hissed up at the others.

"Come down, but fucking be quiet. We got a problem."

Lara came next, and Oberman followed.

What they saw next made their hearts fall into their stomachs.

Before them lay a clutch of eggs, each about three feet tall, each coated with a thin layer of slime. They resembled large bird eggs, and Lara had to wonder how big whatever laid them must have been. She shivered a little, and came up behind the doctor.

"Do you know what laid these?"

Oberman nodded gravely.

"It is a hawk, mutated by the X-Virus. It is nearly fifteen feet, wingtip to wingtip. The hatchlings will grow to the same size. They grow at a geometric rate."

"What does that mean….?"

Oberman stared back into Lara's mollified face.

"That, my dear, means we must get out of here. And fast."

Without further hesitation, they plunged into the tunnel, careful not to touch the eggs, Mike in front, Subject T taking up the rear.

All they could do was hope they got out of the tunnels before the eggs hatched.

Or before the mother came looking for the source of the noise.

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Ooh, scary. Review, or I'll cry. Or kill you. Whatever comes first.


	33. Silent Lucidity

**Chapter 32: Silent Lucidity**

_A/N: Bet you thought I died again, didn't you? No such luck there. Now, read, and review, and I will give you cookies. Yes? Please? By the way, a lot of these chapter titles are also song titles, or lyrics, of songs. This one especially, helped me write the end of this chapter. Do enjoy._

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Slowly, the group continued into the flickering darkness. Subject T took the lead, finding himself only slightly surprised that he did not really need the aid of the flashlights everyone else carried. It was as if he could make out every shape in the darkness; vaguely, but surely. His nostrils flared as he tried to ignore the overpowering scent of decay and waste, and he guessed somewhere in the back of his mind that the others were having the same problem. Still, though, he plunged forward into the murky water, trying his best to overcome his bulk and stay quiet.

Behind him, Oberman followed warily, gun clutched close to his heaving chest. 'I'm too old for this…' he thought to himself, stifling a cough as another deep breath earned him a lungful of putrid sewer air. As he walked, he took notice of the fact that the water seemed to be getting steadily deeper the further into the tunnels they trekked. When they had first climbed in, what seemed like hours ago, but what must have been mere minutes, the water had only been ankle-deep. Now it reached nearly to his knees. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw that it was even higher for Lara, who was several inches shorter than the rest of the group. Limping slightly, she had begun to fall behind, so the good doctor slowed his pace and waited for her to reach him.

Mike, on the other hand, plowed forward at a steady clip, having been more than ready to escape this pit from the very beginning. He allowed himself to slow only for a moment to make sure the other two caught up, and then offered them his best attempt at a reassuring smile. From Lara's end, it looked more tired than anything else. In the luminescence of the flashlights, she could clearly see the dark and puffy circles under his dark eyes, and knew that he couldn't possibly keep this up much longer. Before he could turn away to continue into the darkness, Lara reached out and grabbed at his vest to get his attention. Mike stopped, and Subject T followed suit, turning to stare curiously at Lara as she began to whisper.

"Should we take a rest?"

Despite the fact that he was panting and huffing, Oberman shook his head, and whispered back between breaths."

"The sooner we're out of this area, the safer we'll be. Once we hit the smaller tunnels, we're guaranteed to be out of the hawk's territory. It could never fit in there. I'm sure of it."

Lara cast her eyes down, but nodded her agreement. Mike gently punched her in her good shoulder, giving her a thumbs-up.

"If this old fuck can do it, you can too. Buck up, kid."

Lara mustered a small smile, and gave Mike a shaky middle finger.

"Watch who you're calling kid, pal."

And with that, she started off, leaving the two men behind her to shake their heads and smile, and then start off again to find their own pace. Once Lara had forced her way through the nearly waist-deep water past Subject T, she gave him a small thumbs up, then pushed forward, ahead of everyone else.

For a few minutes, they ventured onward in near silence, the only sounds being the steady sloshing of thick water in time with their footsteps, and the pounding of the blood in their ears. The pounding had become near maddening for Lara, who gladly would have given her first born child for some kind of noise, anything to break the monotony of ominous silence that tried to fold itself in around them.

Suddenly, from behind, an echoing, high pitched screech poured from a tunnel they'd just come through. Lara froze, breath caught in her throat, and Subject T uttered a low growl without even thinking. After a moment, they could hear a faint sound similar to that of wing beats, but coming from a bird the size of which none of them had ever seen. Oberman swallowed hard, and turned back to Lara and Mike with panic splayed across his gaunt face. He was literally frozen with fear, unable to move even as he watched his comrades frantically turn to run. A tiny squeak pulled itself from his lips, and it was enough for Mike to turn back towards him.

He knew the others wouldn't understand. After all, they hadn't seen what these creatures were capable of. Their terrible, scythe-like beaks and claws, their nigh deafening cries of hunger that could never fully be sated. These things struck such fear into the doctor that he couldn't find the strength in himself to go on. It was so different, he realized vaguely, being on the outside of the glass and watching these creatures, and then to be, essentially, inside the cage with them, but with nobody to push the panic button. There would be no one to pull him out at the last moment this time. One mistake could prove a fatal one, and while trapped in this thought, Oberman failed to realize that as he stood frigid, he was already making a major mistake.

Suddenly, Oberman was jerked back to himself by Mike grabbing his arm and pulling him ahead. For a moment, he was in such shock that he was simply dead weight. Mike grunted with the effort of dragging the old man along, until finally he grasped where he was again and began to motor his legs in an effort to keep up with everyone else. Subject T, angry with the frailty of this old man, stopped, and somehow without leaving a single scratch, scooped the doctor into his arms and continued into the darkness without missing a beat. Now Lara was in the lead, and despite fact that her legs were nearly numb from the cold, she drove herself forward, using the adrenaline rush to force her legs through the dark water. Left, right, left, right… Suddenly through the bobbing beam of the flashlight, up ahead, perhaps fifty feet or so, she saw the tunnel begin to narrow, and her heart leapt into her throat. They were so close! She could nearly taste the fresh air now.

Mike muddled forward behind Subject T, who was still effortlessly carrying the terrified, winded old man, watching Lara fight her way through the tunnel, when she suddenly ceased to be. He cursed under his breath, and pushed forward past Subject T, frantically aiming his light into the water, but to no avail. His heart sank into his stomach, and he was preparing to dive in to when Lara broke the surface, coughing, choking, and gagging. He reached for her, trying to keep his footing, but when her frantic hands found his, she pulled him in with her. As he hit the water and it rushed in around him, he realized just how cold it really was.

Subject T all but threw the old man out of his arms and out of his way, taking a step forward to try and help, and his foot met with nothing but water. Subject T stepped off the ledge and sunk into the water several inches before his foot made a sudden impact with the ground. He wobbled a little, then steadied himself, while a few feet in front of him, Mike and Lara bobbed in the water, both hacking and coughing up the vile sewer water.

Oberman picked himself up, and peered down the beam of his flashlight at the rest of the group. So, it seemed there was a ledge there, and the tunnel had flooded just enough to hide it from view. Subject T was just tall enough that his broad shoulders remained clear of the water, but it seemed the rest of the trip to the smaller tunnels would be one made swimming rather than walking.

Before he could jump in, another loud, shrieking sound came from behind him, and he heard and felt wing beats behind him before the oversized bird struck. It swooped in behind him; talons bared, and plunged them into the old man's back. The sound of tearing flesh and cloth came first, then came the echoing scream of pain and surprise as the hawk tried to close its claws within Oberman's back; tried to pick him up and carry him off. He flailed his arms wildly, and one of his closed, frantic fists struck home, landing right between the bird's dead, black eyes. Shrieking in surprise and pain, the bird's claws opened, and the old man fell forward, blood spraying everywhere as the talons ripped themselves from his body. Oberman's flashlight and gun plunged into the murky water, and soon after, so did he.

The bird flapped its massive wings and rose to the ceiling again, preparing itself to strike once more. Mike plunged underwater and fished around with his hands until he felt something, then grabbed and tugged. He and Oberman broke the surface, and the moment the doctor could get a breath, he began to scream; long, piteous, tortured sounds, and as Mike tried to wrap an arm around him, his fingers played upon the deep craters the bird's claws had left. He shuddered, not daring to think how deep they actually were, but instead deciding to do his damndest to keep the old man alive.

"Come on, you old bastard! Pull yourself together! We're almost there!"

Mike could barely tread water while trying to drag the old man with him, and Lara knew if she didn't do something, and do it fast, both of them could drown even before the bird-creature got another shot at them. She kicked her legs and swam back to where Mike and the doctor were floundering, and wrapped her arm around his waist opposite from Mike, and both kicked as hard as they could, trying to put as much distance between them and the hovering bird as they could. Subject T, on the other hand, pulled himself soaking wet from the murky water, and snarled at the beast overhead in challenge.

The bird's eyes narrowed, and it set its sights on the hulking, skinless creature that dared oppose it. It circled near the high ceiling of the tunnel, then tucked its wings against its body and dove downwards, aiming its wicked talons for the blackness of Subject T's eyes. As it hurtled closer, Subject T roared and spread his claws, preparing himself to fight. With a thick crunch, the bird slammed into Subject T and hooked its claws into his chest, and both flew, over the heads of the struggling Lara and Mike; over the nearly unconscious Oberman, and into the wall just above the narrow section of tunnel.

The walls shook with the impact, and as Subject T and the bird came crashing down into the water, so did much of the wall and ceiling, plunging deafeningly into the water and filling the entrance of their escape route with broken cement, plaster, and metal piping. Mike and Lara kicked backwards as hard as they could to avoid the thick chunks that began to fall from the ceiling, and soon their backs hit the ledge that they'd fallen from. Oberman screamed again, and Lara could feel the waning pulse in his wrist as she tightened her grip on his arm around her shoulder. Mike motioned quickly for her to help lift him, and both of them summoned all their strength to push the old man out of the water and onto higher ground. Oberman landed on his stomach, and his face hit the pavement with a wet smack. Mike lifted his bag and threw it out next to the doctor, where it lay just as still as he did.

Mike and Lara scrambled to get out of the water, trying to ignore how heavy their wet clothes were, and once they were out, they scrambled for some weapons, any weapons. Lara prayed her gun would still work when wet, and Mike aimed his flashlight and machine gun into the darkness where the two monsters had fallen.

Subject T broke the surface first, clutching the bird's head in one bulky hand. His claws were buried in its neck, and it was struggling hard to get free, but it was wet and wounded, and obviously no match when it wasn't in the air. Its razor sharp beak tore through the air only inches from Subject T's face, and he yowled at it as it ground its talons into his flesh. Soon, though, the struggles subsided and the bird's claws released Subject T's chest. He squeezed its neck viciously until it stopped moving completely, and as the dust settled, Subject T slowly released the bird, watching it sink into the murky water. Panting and growling, he fought his way back to the other side of the trench.

When he finally made it across the distance that had only moments ago seemed so short, he dragged himself out of the water and rose to his feet. Oberman was conscious, but bleeding badly. Lara held his head gingerly in her lap while Mike hurriedly examined his wounds. There were two groups of deep, wicked craters in the doctor's upper back, and they bled slowly but thickly down the sides of his back and neck, staining further the torn white lab coat. Mike yanked off his vest, then removed the t-shirt underneath, and handed it to Lara.

"Press this over his wounds for a sec. I gotta see what all that fucking noise was about."

Lara nodded, muttering soothing words to the bloodied, weeping doctor while Mike put his vest back on. As he zipped it, he aimed his flashlight toward the narrow tunnels, and when the beam fell across the massive pile of wreckage that blocked it, he swore loudly and flicked off his flashlight, tears of anger and frustration burning his eyes.

Lara looked up at him, still doing her best to try and calm the doctor as the blood soaked its way through the shirt and onto her hands.

"What?! What is it?!"

Mike just shook his head, too angry to speak, and fell to his knees next to Lara and the doctor. Lara, beginning to panic, slowly reached across Oberman's ruined back and pried the flashlight from Mike's hands. Not wanting to, but knowing she must, she turned the flashlight on and aimed its beam at the wasted escape route. Lara felt as sob rise in her throat, and she angrily clicked off the flashlight and turned a wide-eyed gaze to Mike. Mike stared at her, his round face suddenly seeming much thinner, and a single tear trailed down his cheek, making its way down his face before dripping onto her bloody hand. Lara leaned forward and laid her forehead against Mike's, and both wept in anger, frustration, and exhaustion over the dying old man's body. Subject T could only watch; could offer nothing to them, no condolence, no aid, and no sympathy.

Rage boiled within him, so hot he felt it would melt him from the inside out, and he did the only thing he could: he threw back his head and screamed into the darkness.

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There, don't you all feel so much better now? REVIEW NOW, BITCH.


	34. Carry On My Wayward Son

**Chapter 33: Carry On My Wayward Son**

_A/N: So, lovelies, did you miss me? I know you did. Kansas references, anyone? :)_

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After some time, Lara took a deep breath and lifted her face from the broken doctor's bleeding back. She lifted her gaze to stare at Mike, who stared back at her through bloodshot brown eyes, thick fingers clenched into fists in his lap. Tears began to flow again, making thin trails through the viscous coating of blood and slime that covered her face, and she reached out to take Mike's hand, trembling and suppressing a sob. Mike jerked away from her touch, leaping to his feet and lashing out with one foot at a small chunk of rubble, sending it flying into the water with a resounding splash. Lara clutched the shaking, half-conscious Oberman against her torso, murmuring soothing things to him when he whimpered in agony as her breasts brushed his gaping wounds.

Subject T's rage had not dwindled, but he was silent, crouched in the darkness several feet from the others, his eyes the only thing visible in the shadows. They glittered and reflected the light much like a cat's eyes would, and Mike was chilled to the bone when he glanced Subject T's direction. Those eyes had seemed almost human an hour ago. Now, as Subject T took a step back into the dim light, Mike saw that the green had begun to bleed back to black, and silently wondered how much longer Subject T would be able to restrain his primal urges. He watched as Subject T stared at Lara; watched the way he studied her. It was eerily similar to the way a predator observes its prey, he remarked to himself, and his hand unconsciously inched towards the gun slung around his neck.

Lara, blissfully unaware that Mike was seconds away from shooting Subject T, slowly rocked Oberman, fingers digging into his sides without realizing it. Her chest heaved with sobs that she dared not release, for fear of something else hearing them and taking advantage of the fact that they were in no way ready to fight again. Oberman continued to twitch and mumble, making small, strangled noises, and vaguely, beneath her sorrow, rage, and terror, Lara realized that if he didn't receive help soon, the kindly, wisecracking old man that had been her mentor for so long would bleed to death here in her arms.

After what seemed an eternity, Mike managed to turn away from Subject T and slowly knelt beside Lara and the good doctor, and Lara turned a heartbroken, tear-filled gaze to him. Mike's mind went blank. He knew there was nothing he could say, no joke to be made, that could fix any of this; not now. Instead, he summoned up his own rage, and gripped the trembling woman's shoulders, shaking her so she would stop staring at him like that; with those drained, bloodshot eyes that seemed to drain of hope the longer he stared into them.

"Pull yourself together, princess! We can't help the old fuck if you fall apart!"

Lara inhaled sharply and shakily, and nodded, careful not to jostle the shivering man in her arms any further. Mike's mind began to work, now that he was more sure Lara wouldn't reduce to the trembling, soulless wreck they'd found her as. When he and Oberman had come upon her, she had been in a sort of trance, dislocated shoulder hanging at her side uselessly, lips moving without sound. She'd been on the brink of unconsciousness, and seemed to stare right through them. She hadn't even spoken when Mike had hoisted her into his arms; hadn't flinched when Subject T had come very close to gutting the doctor in a horrifying fit of rage as he rushed her to the medical wing with several of their mangled coworkers hot on their heels. The spark he'd seen in her earlier when they made their way into the tunnels was fading, and he couldn't afford to let that happen. He couldn't be alone that way; not down here. No amount of sarcasm would help him if that happened. He'd be no better off than the poor, dead sons of bitches that were hunting them.

"I need you to hold him very still. I want to get a better look at his wounds… Maybe, just maybe, we can still help him. Can you do that for me, doll?"

Lara took another deep breath, closed her eyes, and steadied herself. After a moment, she opened them again, and a tired smile tugged at her lips.

"Just don't call me 'doll'."

Mike returned the smile, and Lara gingerly straightened the doctor in her lap, giving Mike better access to his mangled back. Slowly, Mike peeled back the old man's coat and shirt, and hissed through his teeth when he got a better look at the damage. The gouges he felt earlier as he dragged the doctor through the water were more than gouges; they were hideous, seeping crevasses, and in the faint light, Mike could see the slick glint of bone beneath the shredded flesh. Again, Mike's mind went blank. There was no plausible way to fix this sort of wound. If they moved him, he would surely bleed to death in minutes. If they stayed here with him, he would slowly bleed out; an agonizing fate he would not wish for the poor old man. Mike reached out to touch the doctor, wishing he could offer some kind of comfort, when the old man took a heaving breath and coughed thickly and wetly, and a dark stain began to spread on Lara's thigh. Slowly, she turned his face up, just enough to see, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out when she saw how much blood had begun to dribble from between his lips. His thin, gaunt face was slowly draining of color.

"No… No, not like this! Come on, you old bastard!" Mike roared, beating one thick fist upon the cold ground.

When he took another sudden, wheezing breath, Mike's eye caught something upon the doctor's back. Slowly, he lifted the flashlight from the ground, and steadied it upon the gaping wounds. Before his eyes, tiny black veins had begun to bulge out and extend in jarring zigzags along Oberman's back. It was as though someone had filled his veins with tar, and it was slowly but surely spreading through his system. In Lara's arms, the old man began to writhe, and his mouth opened in a harrowing howl of agony. There came a nauseating crunch of bones and a tearing of flesh as sharp, talon-like nails slowly forced themselves through his fingertips. Lara froze, unable to move, caught like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming semi. Her hands rose skyward, but she could do no more. Still crouched in the darkness, Subject T began to snarl, thick foam forming at the corner of his lips. He lumbered forward, preparing to strike.

Mike's Umbrella training kicked in suddenly, as though someone had flipped a switch inside his head, and he rose, lashing out with one foot and rolling the doctor out of Lara's lap. He tumbled away from her, landing on his stomach. With another shaky, rattling breath, the old man tried to push himself to his feet, blood running in thick streams from his cracked lips. His eyes had begun to glaze, and as he got to his feet, he groped at the air with his newly clawed hands, stumbling toward the frozen Lara.

"Doc… please… It's me; it's Lara… Don't do this…"

Oberman lurched closer, seeming unfazed by his former protégé's horror and fear. Subject T crouched low and sprang, just as the doctor's hands were about to tangle themselves in Lara's hair. His claws shredded the shoulders of the old man's coat, and the two landed in a tangle of limbs a few feet away. Mike jerked Lara to her feet and put himself between the struggling pair and the horrified Lara. Subject T snarled and pinned the old man beneath his bulk, and what had once been Oberman began to gnash his teeth, covering his face in tiny, foamy bubbles of blood, raking his claws along Subject T's arms. Easily able keep the grunting, drooling monster held firmly beneath him, Subject T turned his eyes to Lara, who was clawing at Mike's arm, which had begun to rise, gun clutched tightly within. Lara shook her head violently and began to cry hysterically, punching and flailing; anything to keep Mike from doing what she knew deep down he had to do. Mike's eyes met Subject T's, and they shared a single, fleeting moment of understanding.

Mike wheeled and heaved Lara into his arms and over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. She screamed and began to beat on his back, but Mike set his jaw and began to trek back the way they had come, fighting back another wave of hot tears. He did not look back, merely kept walking, gripping the flailing Lara tightly as the howls of their old friend echoed around them in the darkened tunnel. He knew that he had to go on; they all had to carry on. It was what Oberman would have wanted them to do. If they went down, it would be fighting, not because they hadn't had the strength to put an old man out of his misery when his humanity had seeped out of him with his own blood. Vaguely, for no reason at all, as if to mock him, an old song began to play in his head:

"Carry on, my wayward son  
there'll be peace when you are done  
Lay your weary head to rest  
don't you cry no more"

It was almost too much for him, and he stumbled, nearly dropping the sobbing, struggling Lara when one knee collided with the cement. He nearly began to scream when she bit into his back, but struggled to his feet again, shaking her teeth from his skin, and plunged forward, ignoring her agonizing cries.

His stride broke once more when the tunnel behind them grew silent, but after a moment, he started again, fighting back the urge to run away screaming.

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You know you love me. Review, now, darlings.


	35. Let Her Cry

**Chapter 34: Let Her Cry**

I am alive, dears! Enjoy this, though it is a bit short. Another to come soon! 

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Mike continued to plow through the flickering spots of darkness, his knuckles white and fingers tingling with oncoming numbness as he clutched at Lara's legs. She had finally stopped struggling, and lay limp in his arms, eyes closed tightly. Her breathing was shallow and ragged, and she choked on desperate sobs, digging her nails into her palms until she could feel her own blood dripping between her fingers. Her wounds suddenly made themselves known all over again, her stomach twisting itself into painful, stabbing knots, and her head throbbed like a beating heart. She knew somewhere in the back of her mind that if Mike did not put her down soon, she would no doubt faint. She also realized that she did not much care.

Mike, jaw clenched, lifted his eyes long enough to notice a door coming up on his left, marked by a faded sign that read 'maintenance'. He slowed his determined pace to shakily yank on the handle, and upon finding it locked, cursed so loudly and suddenly that Lara uttered a shrill cry. He lashed out with one heavy boot, kicking the bottom of the door, just above the water line. The door, however, did not give, and Mike howled in frustration, turning and plowing ahead through the stinking, viscous waters.

As he approached the ladder that had brought them down here, he stopped, peering past it and into the shadows, noticing a glint of metal. Slowly, he stepped around behind the ladder, and reached out for the glimmer in the darkness, and found with some relief that it was another doorknob, and this time, it was unlocked. Slowly, he pushed the door open, and found a gaping hole of blackness. With his free hand, he groped in the darkness beside him, feeling around along the wall. When his fingers fumbled over a light switch, he flicked it and stepped back, preparing for anything that might leap out at him.

Nothing lunged for him from the empty storage room, and Mike released his breath, not even aware that he'd been holding it in. Lara, startled by the sudden brightness, began to kick and flail again, and Mike hoisted her forward, dropping her unceremoniously onto her feet. Surprised, she fell backwards and onto the floor, hissing in pain as she knocked her tailbone against the cement. Mike stepped up the small stairs that separated the room from the water below, and stared down at her, his eyes dark and hurt. Lara stared right back, her face gaunt, but full of rage, pain, and defiance. She pushed herself to her feet abruptly, and lunged at Mike, hands out in front of her, preparing to strike him. Mike caught her fists easily, and turned her to face away from him, holding her arms against her chest as she struggled and screamed, wordless cries of sickening anguish tearing from her parched throat.

She began to sob again; faintly surprised that she still had tears to cry. Mike swallowed hard, knowing that if he lost it and gave into his rage, he would strike her, and that would do no good for any of them. Faintly behind him, he heard Subject T approach, his steps loud and clumsy. He glanced over his shoulder and somehow did not feel surprised when the lumbering beast appeared from the shadows, Mike's duffel bag clutched carefully between his bloody, clawed fingers. Subject T carefully dropped the bag onto one of the small steps, and watched silently, feeling his heart clench as Lara's cries filled his ears. He deeply wanted to be able to console her, but knew that nothing he could do as he was now could possibly help her.

Lara stopped struggling against Mike's grip after a moment or two, and fell all but limp in his arms. Mike sighed, laying his forehead against the back of her head, trying to gather his thoughts; to find something, anything, to say. Suddenly, though, Lara whipped her head backwards and knocked her skull into Mike's nose, and Mike snarled in pain as fresh blood began to trickle from his nostrils immediately. Lara wrenched out of his arms, and whirled to face him, panting and crying, reaching up to wipe her nose with the back of one arm.

"How could you? How could you just leave him like that?!"

Mike opened his mouth to speak, and found that no words would come. His shoulders slumped, and he cast his gaze upon the floor, jaw beginning to tremble. Lara surged forward toward him, and caught him off guard with a firm, stinging slap that echoed flatly out into the hallway.

Mike grabbed for her and missed, and she pushed past him, stumbling back into the water and approaching Subject T, exhaustion taking a temporary back seat to grief. She swung her arm to strike him without thinking, and he easily stepped out of her range, his eyes filled with pity. Lara lunged for him, and began to beat on his chest with her fists, weak blows that did not even move him. He desperately wanted to fold her into his arms, but his eyes were locked onto Mike's freshly bloodied nose, and he suddenly realized how hungry he had become. Even as Lara vented her rage upon him, his eyes did not leave Mike's face; the way the droplets trickled down his chin, mingling with sweat upon his stubbly lips to create a sweet, diluted mixture. With the thought of food came pain, his stomach seizing and churning, and he shoved Lara away without thinking, snarling under his breath and staggering into the shadows, restraining the rising urge to feed.

Lara did not follow him, and instead turned back to Mike, preparing to leap onto him. As she launched herself toward him, he stepped to one side and caught her in his arms, letting the force of her leap take her past him. He wrestled her to the floor, and she yowled like a wounded animal, beating against the floor with her hands and feet, bucking up against Mike with her rear, trying to throw him off. Mike was suddenly flooded with exhaustion, and knew he could not listen to her go on like this much longer. What they needed was to rest, if only for a while, and also knew she would not listen to him in her frenzy.

After a moment of silent contemplation, he glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Subject T, who was trying to regain control of his surfacing hunger. Subject T spared him a look, and Mike knew what he had to do, for the good of all of them, knowing it couldn't possibly do any further harm.

Slowly, he drew his sidearm from its leg holster, and raised it high above his head, drowning out all sound with sheer will, and brought it down sharply against the back of Lara's head. It made a dull crack against her skull, and Mike vaguely had time to hope that he hadn't cracked it before she fell limp and silent beneath him. Slowly, he knelt onto the floor next to her, cradled his head in his hands, and began to weep. Subject T, having regained some kind of control, staggered into the doorway, looking down upon the pair in silent reverie.

Lara, sprawled out upon the floor, began to dream.


	36. Points of Authority

**Chapter 35: Points of Authority**

**A/N:** I live! :D Feel free to go check out the first few chapters of the book I've started on FictionPress. It's called 'Husky Bitch'. Werewolves? I THINK SO!

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Time seemed to crawl around Mike in a thick, heavy fog. The tunnels were silent; save for the heavy, distant breathing of Subject T, and the faint rippling of the rancid water. Sweat slowly trickled around his fingers and into his eyes, and he made no move to wipe it away. His entire body felt as though it was full of sand, and the idea of even moving his fingers seemed too much. So there he sat, face buried in his hands. Even his mind seemed heavy, and vaguely he realized that he hadn't slept in nearly thirty-six hours. Despite the fact that he was sweating beneath his Kevlar and the rest of his thick gear, it was still obviously cooler down here. He knew that the backup generators wouldn't hold up forever, and when they finally gave out, they'd be plunged into darkness and heat. The cold December air wouldn't be able to penetrate the thick walls of the labs, and the temperature would slowly climb. 'The bodies are going to stink like shit', he thought, and his stomach roiled weakly. Try as he might, he could not skirt the 'what if' that crept into his brain. Being trapped down here was bad enough. Left to wander around, blind, with their rotting, stinking coworkers was another thing entirely. There wasn't enough money in the world to justify this job anymore. If he lived through this, he was going to kill Richard Ashford personally.

Finally, he rubbed at his face with his hands, and glanced down at Lara, who was still blissfully unconscious. Her breathing was sharp and ragged, and Mike reached out without thinking and lay the back of his hand across her pallid forehead. Her skin was far cooler than his, and her eyes had dark, angry circles around them. Though her wounds had all been treated as well as they could be under the circumstances, she needed a hospital, and she needed one yesterday. Mike pursed his lips and blew out a frustrated breath. With a grunt of irritation, he pawed at his vest clasps and tore it off, tossing it aside. Then came his long, thick undershirt; leaving him in only a dark, sweat-drenched tank top. His muscles seemed to ache all the way to the bone, and from there, even deeper. He hurt in places he didn't know he had. Sure, he wasn't the young, fit guy he used to be, but this was ridiculous. Slowly, he forced himself to his feet, stretching his arms across his chest, then over his head, taking time to study the little room around him.

There were a few tanks and gauges, none of which seemed to be functioning, but all of which seemed to have to deal with the water pressure for the sewer system. From there, Mike's eyes wandered to a small desk, shoved into the far corner in what seemed like a brisk afterthought. Upon it was a fancy, new computer. Mike slowly approached it, common sense questioning the presence of such a fancy piece of machinery in a literal shithole like this. Reaching out with one thick finger, he tapped at one of the keys, and the screen flickered to life with a faint hum. A dreary login screen greeted him, asking for a username and password. Plopping himself down into the rickety rolling chair, Mike fumbled in one of his pockets until he fished out a floppy disk. He slipped it into the drive, and plinked out a series of keystrokes. After a moment, the login screen faded to a series of lines of code that scrolled from top to bottom, comprised of zeroes and ones. Mike scanned the numbers, and then entered several more practiced keystrokes. The computer hummed and beeped, and the login screen returned. The username and password boxes began to repeatedly fill themselves in, letters and numbers and asterisks appearing and reappearing as the virus program began to attempt to guess the details.

As the program continued its trial and error process, Mike glanced over his shoulder and into the dark tunnel, and felt a chill run down his spine when he saw the eerie glint of Subject T's eyes looking back at him. He found he could not pull his eyes away from the hungry, dark pits that burned into his skull. He gritted his teeth and snapped, "The fuck are you looking at?" He groped blindly around on the desk, and when his hand met with something, he grasped it, and then hurled it through the doorway. The stapler he'd thrown landed harmlessly, falling several yards short of the hulking shape in the shadows. Subject T did not flinch; only bared his wicked fangs and snarled through a mouthful of saliva. The two stared at each other for another short eternity, and their silent battle of wills was abruptly ended when the computer beeped pleasantly, a monotonous female voice announcing, "Welcome, Richard Ashford. Please select from the menu."

Mike turned back to the screen, and his eyes darted from icon to icon on the desktop. They were all named in code, and after clicking each of them and finding nothing of use, he found a final folder, simply labeled 'Journals'.

"Okay, you sick fucking bastard. Let's see what this is all about."

With a deep breath, Mike opened the folder, and scanned the files within. They were arranged in no particular order, and only labeled with dates. He clicked on a random file, and began to read. It seemed that these had originally been recorded audio files, but the computer had transcribed them into text format. Still, he could hear Ashford's voice in his mind, and he could feel heat rise into his face as he read.

**_November 21st, 1999_**

_I intensely dislike using digital journals, but at least these are password protected, whereas more traditional forms of transcription are not. I will not make the same mistake again. Thankfully, the nosy little bitch who thought it would be a good idea to snoop through my personal papers is to be dealt with accordingly. She thought she could blackmail me! She wasn't exactly stupid, I have to give her that much. She managed to bribe her way, somehow, into getting her hands on restricted files, and with them, my personal journals and research. She strolled into my office yesterday, telling me that if I wouldn't finance the money she'd asked for, she'd turn everything over to the government._  
_It was easy enough to shoot her plan down, however. I already have many, many contacts within the most intricate parts of the foolish American government. Oh, the look on her nigger face! It was simply delectable. It only became more and more delicious when I called in security. Of course, I had them escort her back to her desk. I reminded her, with a big smile on my face, that she is still contracted to work for me until it is decided otherwise. It nearly turned her negro face white! I'm sure she thought I'd have her fired. No, no. I have far more interesting plans for her. I do not allow people to attempt to blackmail me. Not without paying a very, very steep price._

**_November 18th, 1999_**

_An employee came to me today, pandering for money. Employee 6854, Shelly E. Morris. Married, two children, ages eight and eleven. She stammered and sputtered and all but threw up all over my shoes. What a disgusting display. It seems her husband has developed some sort of kidney disease and requires a transplant that her regularly issued insurance will not cover. After some checking, it seems that the physicians who examined him do not expect him to survive very long, transplant or not. So, I simply informed the uppity bitch that I stand by the decisions of my staff to deny her any extra compensation or further medical treatment. I could almost smell her hate. A perfect way to start the day, isn't it?_

**_November 26th, 1999_**

_I still can't believe I let him do it. My only son. What came over me? Why? I don't know how to tell her that I allowed it. Even after all this time, it still haunts me. Seeing him in that cage, like the animal he has become... There is nothing in this world that I am afraid of, but I think that I should be afraid of what will happen when she finds out. God help me._  
_No. Not me._  
_Help him, now._

**_November 29th, 1999_**

_She left me today. I've never seen anything so terrifying. I can admit it now, because I have found something to fear in her anger. She told me I'd be sorry._  
_She doesn't seem to know how sorry I already am._  
_Last night, I put a gun in my mouth. But I couldn't do it. I wanted to, so badly. I tasted the cold metal, and I was not afraid. It was not because of guilt over my son; no, no. It is because I am afraid of what she will do to me._  
_I think she means to kill me._

Mike peeled himself away from the computer, shaking his head and muttering curses under his breath. What did he mean by a steep price? And what had happened to his son? This was all news to him, and though he had gained a little insight, he still knew nothing. As he rose, he lashed out with one foot, and found himself faintly satisfied when the side of the metal desk buckled a little beneath his hard boot.

Slowly, he stooped over Lara, and scooped her limp body into his arms. She did not move, and her head lolled to one side. The hand that held the back of her neck became warm and sticky, and Mike sloshed his way out into the water and knelt, clutching her against his chest. He tipped her forward and combed his fingers through her tangled mess of hair until he found a hard lump at the back of her skull. The wound from where her head had rebounded off the floor was slowly clotting, and for that, Mike was thankful. He dipped his fingers into the cold, dirty water and did his best to wash away the blood in her hair. Then, he tipped her back, cradling her upper body in one arm and using the other to scoop more water to wipe away the blood that had dried upon her forehead and beneath her nose. The crust of blood was stubborn, but after a few passes with his fingertips, it gave way, and trickled down the sides of her face. With a heavy sigh, Mike finished wiping her face clean (or as clean as it would get while he used the rancid water at hand). Subject T lumbered into the light, watching Mike silently. Without sparing Subject T a glance, Mike began to tap his palm against Lara's cheek.

"Come on, kid, you gotta wake up. We have to get moving. Come on, let's see those blue eyes… Come ON!"

His light taps gave way to faint slaps, and Lara's eyelids began to flutter. Her lips moved soundlessly, and her breathing quickened, until it hitched in her chest, and she began to cough violently; thrashing and twisting in Mike's arms. He pinned her against him as she coughed and gagged, trying to murmur soothing things to her so she would relax. She jerked to one side and almost tumbled back into the water, and Mike heard her gullet working overtime. He quickly turned her face away from him, still holding her tightly with the other arm, and Lara began to vomit into the stinking water. She heaved and retched until her body gave one final spasm, and she lay panting in Mike's arms.

Mike brushed her hair back from her clammy forehead, and Lara stared up at him through wild, sunken eyes. She mumbled for a moment, then turned her head and spat into the water. Mike wet his fingers, and wiped the last traces of vomit from her lips, managing a relieved smile.

"Welcome back, kiddo."


	37. The Pitch Spectacular, Spectacular

**Chapter 36: The Pitch (Spectacular, Spectacular)  
**_A/N: I LIVE! But really, please enjoy this._

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"Welcome back, kiddo."

Mike smiled broadly down into Lara's face, relieved, even as sweat dripped down his forehead and fell onto her cheeks. She groaned, a deep sound of exhaustion that wrenched Mike's heart. Wiping her hand across her face, she squinted at her fingers, pursing her lips when she saw them tinged pink with blood. Her head throbbed and pounded as though at any moment it could just split apart. Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself to a sitting position, only then noticing the purplish bruises that had begun to form under Mike's eyes.

"What… what happened?"

With a sigh, Mike slowly moved her out of his lap, and rose, reaching down to offer his hand. Reluctantly, she slipped her thin fingers into his, and he gingerly pulled her upright. When she swayed precariously, he gripped her arms, keeping her from tumbling back to the floor. Her gaze met his, and Mike found himself relieved at the glint there. At least if she was angry, she'd keep moving. He wouldn't have to carry her around. He didn't know if he could anyway.

"You had a little.. moment. I had to subdue you. You did manage to get a good shot in." His expression hardened, and he waited for a burst of rage. Instead, Lara's brow furrowed, and understanding flashed across her gaunt face. Slowly, she raised her eyes, and softly whispered, "I'm sorry." Her vision blurred as her eyes filled with tears. This time, though, she didn't let them fall. No. Now it was time to get serious. She had to be strong, or she knew she'd go crazy down here. Remembering how the rage and anguish had filled her, and had overflowed out of her, she shivered. Whatever it took, she would not lose herself that way again. She'd die before she'd go crazy.

Mike reached out with a meaty fist and gave her a light nudge in one arm, one corner of his mouth twitching up in a faint smile. Lara returned that smile, albeit meekly, and turned to grab the duffel bag, pawing through it for a weapon; any weapon, that would make her feel the slightest bit safer. After a few moments of digging, she pulled out a Beretta. The weight was satisfying in her hands, and she went through the process of checking its clip and safety before tucking it into the back of her pants.

"We have to go. The longer we stay here, the less likely it is that we'll be able to get the fuck out."

"Yeah. But where are we supposed to go? We can't take the tunnels, the elevators are shut down, and topside is probably locked down anyhow, so even if we could get up there, we couldn't get out… What does that leave us, exactly?"

Mike grimaced, and ran a hand through his hair, trying to remember the blueprints he'd been given. It felt like years ago now, but it reality, it had only been a couple of months. There just HAD to be some other way out…

From the hallway came a drawn out growl, and Subject T's craggy face slid into view from the shadows. He flexed his fingers, his stance implying that Mike wasn't the only one eager to get a move on.

"Chill out, you fucking hulk." Mike spat in the direction of the door and threw up his arms, inciting a snarl from Subject T. "I'm trying to fucking think. Could you call off your big ugly mutt, please?"

Lara set the bag down by Mike's feet, and moved closer to Subject T, placing a hand on his arm and giving it a gentle squeeze. Subject T huffed, clearly displeased, but did not move closer to Mike. With a sigh, Mike began to pace, eyes narrowed at the floor while he ran through what he could remember of the blueprints in his head. Most of the exits would have been locked down when the alarm was declared. Some would have likely been locked down from the outside by those who managed to flee before the auto locks were engaged. Obviously, neither he nor Subject T could fit in the air ducts, and even if they could, it would be near impossible to climb their way to the top of the complex.

Suddenly, Mike's face brightened. "I think I've got it." He snapped his fingers, and stopped pacing, turning to Lara and Subject T with a lopsided grin.

"All the regular staff elevators are set to lock down in the event of an alarm… but the executive elevators stay functional during lockdowns. It just requires a key to operate, so as nothing… undesirable can get out. We just need to find a key."

Lara's eyes widened. "Holy shit. You're right. I'm not sure what kind of key, though. Any idea what we'd be looking for?"

Mike paused, and then slapped himself in the forehead with one palm. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"What? What is it?"

Blowing a big puff of air, Mike turned to rest his forehead against one of the cool walls. "This is going to be a pain in the fucking ass."

"Care to share, or are you just going to leave me in the fucking dark?" Lara raised her voice, but when it began to echo out and into the tunnels, she clutched her head and groaned. Mike snorted, and shook his head.

"I think those locks are retinal and fingerprint scanners. We'd need someone with that kind of clearance… and I'm pretty sure they're all fucking dead."

With an exasperated sign, Lara plopped into the nearby chair, and drummed her fingers on the desk. "Is there a way you can hack into the computer and get us a list of high-clearance execs? Everyone is required to wear nametags at all times inside the facility, so if we're lucky, we can find someone with clearance."

Mike cocked a brow, and folded his arms over his chest. "And just what do you plan to do if and when you find one of these undead execs? Ask him real nice to pretty please stand still for the scanners so we can get the hell out?"

With a grimace, Lara averted her gaze to the floor. "Not exactly… I figured we could… borrow the important bits."

"…You must be out of your fucking mind. Do you know what you're asking?"

"Yes. We find one of these people, cut off the head and hands, and use them to get the elevator up and running."

Mike simply stared, mouth partly agape. Lara met his gaze, and crossed her own arms over her chest, jutting her chin out defiantly.

"You know something, kid? You're fucking twisted." He jabbed a finger in her direction, shaking his head more vehemently. "A sick, sick puppy, you are."

"Damn right. Are you going to get us a list, or what?"

"Get outta my chair, princess."

Slowly and shakily, Lara pushed herself to her feet, then plopped down on the floor near the doorway, glancing up at Subject T; who stood stolidly and broodingly just outside the room. 'A silent protector.. like Batman,' she thought, and had to stifle a giggle. From that thought alone, she knew she was severely exhausted. Her whole body felt like it was made of sand… She just wanted some real sleep. A big, nasty cheeseburger, a shower, and sleep; not necessarily in that order. Her eyelids drooped a little just thinking about sleep. She felt like she could just sleep forever if she got the chance. A warm bed, comfy soft pillows, her favorite down comforter… Oh, how incredible that would feel when she finally got the hell out of this mess. It sounded like heaven.

Suddenly, Mike's hand was on her shoulder, and she jolted upright, scrambling to her feet.

"Whoah. Relax. You just dozed off for a few."

Licking the dryness from her lips, Lara rubbed at her eyes, and then leaned over the desk to try and see what Mike had found. "So what's all this?"

"You wanted a list? Bam. There ya go."

Scanning the computer screen, Lara gnawed at her lower lip. After a moment, she slammed her fist down onto the desk, snarling in frustration. "Dammit, Mike, there must be fifty fucking names here!"

"Exactly, sweetheart. Those fifty-two execs were all on the clock when the alarm was triggered. That's a pretty good chance of running into at least one of them. If it were fewer names, it wouldn't be so easy. So, relax. We'll figure it out. Plus, all badges are color coded. You know that. As long as they are wearing them, we'll know what to look for."

Brushing a hand through her matted, greasy hair, Lara nodded. "You're right. But… they could be anywhere. That's five floors. That could take forever."

"It's our only option right now… so unless you have a better idea, I'd suggest shutting your pie hole." Mike spat again, reached for the duffel bag, and then slung it over his shoulder. With another heavy sigh, Lara followed his lead, and Subject T took up the rear. They trudged to the ladder, and slowly made their way upwards, the only sound down here being their heavy footsteps as they ascended.


End file.
